Nothing But Time On My Hands
by Alfonsina.d
Summary: What might happen while bored on a stakeout... This is the final of the three endings and the original. Story is now COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

Babe

Disclaimer: wishing money was made on this little enterprise, but sadly it is not.

Thanks to Deb, Bluz, Jaime, Luisa and Melody for making this come true…you ladies hold amazing editorial powers.

**Nothing but Time on My Hands**

**By Alfonsina**

"Babe."

"No really Ranger, it works," I said to the statue sitting next to me in the SUV.

"Babe."

"Come on, I need someone to practice on and as long as we are both just sitting here, can't I practice on you? Please?" I was all but begging.

"Steph, whatcha gonna practice on Ranger?" asked the disembodied voice coming over the radio.

"Wouldn't you just want to know, Woody? This is Woody isn't it?" I asked. Once again I had smarted off too quickly.

"Nope, it's your favorite," said the same disembodied voice.

"I know it isn't Tank. He's one of my favorites, _and_ he has too many manners to assume I'd do something _wrong. _ I seem to remember that my _other favorite_ is Lester, but he's not working tonight," I replied.

"You're right, it isn't Tank and it isn't Lester," said the same freaking annoying voice.

A different voice answered, "The smart ass is Brett."

Lovely, now I have to add voice recognition to my list of under developed skills.

"Lester?" Ranger asked, eyebrow raised.

"Of course not," I said with a smile, "my favorite is Binky."

"Babe."

"So can I practice on you or not?" I asked, the frustration level in my voice growing.

Before Ranger could give me an answer, another voice chimed in, "Steph, you can tell us what you've got in mind. We may not be able to watch, but we'll all be able to hear. It'll just between us."

Great, us. I had forgotten how many of 'us' were out on surveillance tonight. There were four vehicles, two man teams in each, were in effect. Lovely. Rangeman's small grapevine rivaled that of the Burg, they were all going to learn about my potential new part time job sooner or later anyway.

I was going to become a palm reader.

Really.

We, Grandma and I, had decided I was going to try to become a palm reader like her friend Caroline Grant. It was easy work, if you got it paid pretty well and I wouldn't be ripping my jeans to do a reading either.

Grandma'd been to the psychic fair at the senior center and figured if those yahoos could do it, so could we. Not that we are yahoos, but just that we could rise to the challenge. Maybe.

Right now since skips were few and far between, even Ranger was running low on extra work he could send my way. I decided I could do this to augment my income. It was either this or look for something part time at the button factory and I would do almost anything to avoid that horrible fate.

Besides, this whole palm reading thing had nothing to do with me being psychic, according to the books it was all scientific. Grandma also figured she could bring me into the senior center to pre-screen her potential suitors and maybe even drum up some business for myself. I think she just wanted to know how much life might be left in her potential suitors.

I had heard that 'toe reading' was going to replace palm reading in the 21st century, but there were no 'Toe Reading For Dummies' books at the bookstore, yet. It was icky to ask people to take off their shoes and socks just to get to read them. It all sounded pretty kinky and a little too intimate for me, thank you very much.

There were a lot of books at the bookstore on palmistry. I found 'How to Read Palms in Twenty Short Minutes' but the book was 521 pages long and it looked like it was going to take more than 20 minutes to read the book. 'Palms the Patterns of Our Lives' was a lot shorter and had a lot of pictures, so since this was as much Grandma's brain child as mine, we went in to pay for it.

"Guys, my new venture is gonna be palm reading," I said proudly.

"Cool," said one voice.

"Free to friends and family, right?" asked someone else.

"Can I be next?" asked another.

"Babe, you are here to work," Ranger said.

Jeesh.

"Yeah, but it's so boooooooring tonight. Besides, there's a full moon, it's not like I'm going to need to use the flashlight to check the book like I would if I was gonna read your Tarot cards," I said. "I can turn off my mic so the guys can't hear what I'm saying to you."

"The point of having the mic is so we can all hear each other," he said with exasperation in his voice.

"Well, you can leave yours on and I'll just whisper," I said playing my only compromise card.

"All mics stay on until tonight's op is over," he said as much to everybody else as to me.

"Come on, let me just take a look at your right hand. You can tell me how I'm doing. Plllleeeeeease?" I was whining but I didn't really care.

"Fine," Ranger said as he gave me his hand. "I assume you want the palm up?"

"Nope, right now, I want to look at your thumb and feel how it moves."

"Why?" asked one of the many voices of the chorus.

"According to the book, the way the thumb moves, up or down has to do with someone's ego," I said feeling very proud of myself.

"So how big's his ego, Steph?" asked a different voice.

"Well," I said, moving his thumb up and down in my hand, "it's kind of stiff. It doesn't move a whole lot."

"Stiff?" came the chuckling voice that I was recognizing as Brett's.

"Yeah," I said. "Let me look that up."

I put Ranger's hand down as I picked up the book and rifled through the pages.

"Here it is. A thumb that doesn't move down much is the sign of a strong ego. Someone who's very confident in his or her abilities to do something well. But it is also someone who is not tolerant of failure," I read from the book.

"You got that right, sister," said the voice over the radio.

"Binky," Ranger said in a harsh tone.

"What? It's true Ranger. You are confident in what you do and you don't like to fail or see anyone who works for you fail," I said.

"Come on, tell us about his love life," Caesar said.

Hey wouldn't I like to know about that, too? Good point Caesar.

I opened the book to the page and was getting ready to turn Ranger's hand over so I could see what it had to say when Binky said, "Skip has just been sighted on the east side of the building."

"Can we finish this later, Ranger?"

"Babe," was Ranger's standard reply. Then he said, "People, it's time to get up close and personal with this guy and see if he can read my fist."


	2. Chapter 2

Babe

Disclaimer: No money changing hands, maybe next time.

Thanks to Bluz, Deb, Luisa and Melody for their support and pushing me to extend the story, just a little bit.

**Nothing but Time on My Hands**

**By Alfonsina**

**Chapter 2**

"Come on, you know you want to," I said to the beefcake sitting across the table from me.

"Not now, I have a headache," was the unusually whiny response.

I thought there was a rulebook somewhere that said hunks can't whine, or complain or act anything at all like me when I am PMSing. If I wasn't PMSing neither could he.

"Please?" I asked.

Silence. Nothing but silence. Five whole seconds of silence. Way, way, way too much silence for me.

Hell. Two could play this game, but I wasn't one of the two who could play it.

"Please? You don't have to do a thing. Actually all you have to do is just sit there and breathe. You can breathe, I have heard you and I am watching you sit so I know you can do that, too," I said vainly trying to get my way.

"Don't you understand the meaning of 'not now'? How about the meaning of 'no'? Do you know that one yet, Steph?" asked the normally good natured man in front of me.

"If I say that I do know the meaning of the word 'no' then you will expect me to go away. If I act dumb about this, you will accuse me of slipping peroxide in my drink so I can be blonde from the inside out. If I say nothing you will go to sleep and you will be sitting on that big, strong, beautiful, unoccupied hand of yours. Won't you Junior?"

He looked like he had just been busted like Benjamin Bunny. A big blue eyed, red headed, pale skinned bunny in a black painted on uniform that showed off the muscle bound goodness required to be a Rangeman.

I knew Junior had spent a lot of time trying to live up to the uniform and the identity. This was not in his imagination something that Rangemen did. Ever. In his mind, Rangemen were like John Wayne or Gary Cooper, strong silent types who rushed in where angels feared to tread, it must have been in the Rangeman standard contract or something.

My idea of a Rangeman? Eye candy. Lots of amazing variety, but all delectable. Delicious, mouthwatering. Definitely eye candy. The well developed guys on the catalogs where every muscle is oiled, perfectly proportioned, and impeccably put together weren't nearly as nice as a real life Rangeman. YUM!

"Do I have to watch or talk? Right now I really don't want to know what you are going to do or how much humiliation I can withstand," he said with a sigh.

"Nope, like I said, all you have to do is breathe and sit. I can handle the rest if you just give me your right hand," I said with a warm smile. Why on earth would he ever imagine that this would be humiliating?

"How do you want my hand?" Junior asked. He kept twisting his hand around until I finally snatched it.

"I want to look at the 'karate chop' part of your fist to see what it really looks like," I said.

Knowing he had met defeat, Junior put his head on the table with a loud thunk, closed his eyes and grunted.

Jackpot.

My first practice dummy. I mean my first chance. I mean my first ever live client.

Actually technically Junior wasn't my first; Ranger was. I had about thirty seconds of looking at and playing with Ranger's thumb the other night on a stakeout, but that really didn't count for much. He kept trying to pull it back and I was distracted by the fact that everybody was listening.

I picked up Junior's hand and examined it. I looked at the side of it from every possible angle. I got out of my chair and stood over him. Then I hunkered. Next I bent over the table so I was level with the hand. What did I get out of that experience? Nothing. A great big goose egg.

I decided to change tactics. I felt the texture; strong, hard, calloused, slightly damp and clammy. The knuckles were lightly hairy. He had freckles all over the back of his hands, probably on his palm too, redheads were like that. I felt the muscles, yep, all there and powerful. I re-examined the lines on the side, it had a few but not many that were deep.

My book was in front of me, but I couldn't thumb through the pages while I had Junior's hand. Which to hold onto? The hand was nice, but a little clammy; overall it felt good in mine. The book had some of the answers, a translation of the hand.

Reluctantly, I put the hand down and gathered the book.

Finally I found the page about the side of the hand.

There were very few words and just a diagram. The picture looked nothing like Junior's hand at all. There were lines and arrows pointing to things on the hand, but it meant nothing. I could have been in front of an Egyptian pyramid in the Valley of the Kings and understood more about those hieroglyphs than I understood about what was on the page.

Ducky.

"Are we done yet?" asked Junior.

"Nope, not yet," I said. "You said you wanted to help. If you want to leave, can you at least find a volunteer to replacement yourself?"

I was met with a low grunt and then silence. How could these guys do silence so well, didn't they know it wasn't natural or normal to be quiet for more than, oh say, five seconds?

"Any idea when? I really want to close my eyes for a couple minutes and get rid of this headache or at least get some Advil for it," he said.

I was still trying to find a better page in the book and I hadn't looked up from the hand when I said to him, "Hey, I've got Advil in my purse. Can you wait for me?"

"Please."

"Be right back," I said. With that I left my chair at the table, scurried to my cube and grabbed my purse.

When I got back to the break room, I swung my bag hard onto the table. I started foraging through all my treasures and came up with exactly nothing of value. I put my hand in deeper and started to pull stuff out: hair spray (full size), lip sticks, gum, check book, pen, hairbrush, cell phone, stun gun, old Tastykake wrappers, a big wad of lint, receipts from the grocery store and buried treasure in the form of a wad of folded up tissues. I saw the tampons before I pulled them out, thought it would be a little too much information for Junior and I wasn't sure he was up to it.

As I began to unfold the tissues, I heard Junior say to me, "You can't be serious? How long have those things all been in there? Can you ever find anything in there?"

Basically my whole life was now laid out on the break room table, with the exception of Rex and the things needed for his daily upkeep. No wonder I never knew where anything was. At some point I was going to have to get a concealed carry purse, the kind with the holster built in; that way I wouldn't lose my gun on a regular basis.

"Yes, of course I can. A woman's purse is sacred and not all things that go into a purse are needed immediately. This lipstick doesn't go with my current hair color, but if I decide to go blonde again, I am prepared with this lipstick in my purse," I said holding out the tube to him.

I continued to unwrap the tissue to discover the umber colored pills, two to be exact, and they did have the magic letters inscribed: ADVIL.

I got a fresh bottle of water from the fridge and handed it to him with the tablets. "Here you go," I said. I then stuffed all the treasures from my bag back in, but they seemed to take more room than before.

"Are these safe to take?" he asked. "How long have they been in there anyway?"

"Let's see, I got the purse about three months ago after the last one melted down in the Suzuki I was driving spontaneously combusted. So the pills couldn't be any older than that," I said.

He must have been reassured as to the pills safety. "Thank you," he said after he took the pills and returned his head to the top of the table trying to will away his headache.

I was told this was going to be easy. I had skills, obviously not these skills. People were supposed to volunteer to help me – be eager. This wasn't going to be easy; now I was going to have to develop a cadre of volunteers and someone to help me develop my new skills.

The book was mostly pictures which is why I bought it. And aren't picture books supposed to be easy? That's why little kids have books with so many pictures, right? I mean, pictures explain stuff way better sometimes than words ever can. If that's really the case not only am I not as smart as a fifth grader, I'm not as smart as a five year old. This experience was supposed to be a self-esteem and income booster, evidently it wasn't going to work out that way, at least not today.

Out from nowhere, Junior jerked his hand out of mine like he had just had it released from the mouth of a wild animal. Then he got out of his chair like it was on fire.

What? They usually only act like that if they think I am doing something wrong and they are going to be caught in an act of complicity. The fear of guilt by association and all that.

That moment was when I felt the hairs on my arm stand up. Only one person got that response from me and one person only and I didn't really want him right here right now.

Ranger's timing was impeccable as always.

It seemed Junior saw Ranger look at the two of us apparently holding hands.

"Babe," Ranger said.

"Hey. What's going on?" I asked.

Deny. Deny. Deny.

I rarely did any thing wrong when any of the guys were around, usually they saw signs of potential danger and were clear of it before anything happened. Not this time.

Wait just one minute here.

I hadn't done a damn thing wrong, so why was I worried? Maybe it was because I saw the collection of black belts he had been hiding in his apartment. Five black belts, count 'em five. He could probably snap my neck like a twig if he wanted to, if he had a reason. Probably he could snap something on Junior too, but it would be more work to snap something on Junior.

Junior must've thought the same things and that had to be why he was getting away from me so fast.

You'd think I had cooties.

"Gotta go. Steph. Ranger," Junior said with a curt nod and he was out the break room door.

"Whatcha doing, Ranger?" I asked.

"Just getting some water from the fridge, that's all. Was I interrupting something?" Ranger asked.

Ranger never came into the break room, he had a mini fridge in his own office. I knew because I'd raided it a couple of times when he was in the wind. Nothing but healthy stuff was ever in it, but sometimes desperate times call for desperate measures.

"Just practicing my new skills. You've been trying to teach me since forever that if you don't use your skills and challenge yourself, you never get better. If you don't use your skills you lose 'em," I said lightly. I lifted the book from the table and showed it to him.

"That again?" he asked with a bit of relief in his voice.

"Did you think it was a fad the other night? My attention span really isn't that short. Jeesh. Just because you don't believe in it doesn't mean other people don't believe in my ability to learn to read palms," I said. OK, so I was getting testy, but I knew in my heart of hearts that this was the key to additional income.

"Babe, if you want to develop new skills, let me help," he said.

I knew he was being sincere. Rangeman was all about higher education and the employees improving themselves. I already knew the company would reimburse my tuition for college courses in something that count toward a degree or help to do the job. If I wanted to develop more skills for the job, on the job training programs had been established just for that; I'd already worked with Tank on my shooting and memory.

He said something else, but I didn't hear it because I was getting all defensive about him not respecting my personal goals and aspirations.

What I heard was, "Blah, blah, blah." It sounded just like the adults and teachers in the Charlie Brown cartoons "wah, wah, wah." Followed by, "I just don't see how this _venture_ is going to help with your future," he said.

I woke up to the comment about my future and was immediately back in the thick of the conversation.

"Unlike you, not all ventures I pursue are for my work. This is personal growth and development. About is expanding my horizons in new, unexpected and maybe even exciting ways. This is something I can do anywhere in the world, if I want to," I said.

I had been feeling proud of myself. I knew he wasn't intending to belittle me, but it felt that way. I didn't always want to be about 'work'. I mean work is great and it is something we all ultimately do, paid or not, but some work feels like play. The whole idea of palm reading felt like play. I didn't have nearly enough playtime in my life and thought I could get the best of both worlds this way.

Zero stuck his head in the doorway and then right back out again, like he'd seen Grandma Mazur in her nightie.

"Zero, it's OK. Nobody in here but us chickens," I said. "Did Junior send you in?"

"Yeah, but since you and the boss are all tied up right now, I'll come back later," Zero said.

"I was on my way out Zero, it's OK. Are you next in line?" Ranger asked. I could tell he was trying to make light of the situation, it was coming across in his tone but not in his body language. Then again, Ranger's body language was virtually always tense and uptight.

"No really, Boss, it's ok. I'll come back another time," Zero said.

I looked at my watch and realized I had overstayed my lunch break by ten minutes. "You know what? Why don't we meet after I get off either tonight or tomorrow night? I'm late back to my shift and the boss will have my ass in a sling if I'm not careful," I said making a big show of cleaning up the table and closing my book.

"Get with me later, OK?" I asked in Zero's direction. Well it had been in Zero's direction, he was gone like a used car dealer that's just unloaded a lemon.

"Ranger?" I asked. "You aren't going to give the guys a hard time about helping me are you?"

"Of course not, Babe. Why would I ever do that?" he asked as he too left the room.

Men, chickens at heart almost all of them.

I made it back to my cube and logged back onto my phone and my computer. I know my priorities, and my priority was to call Grandma Mazur.

"Mom, is Grandma there?" I asked.

"She's at the Clip 'N Curl this afternoon. She'll be home in an hour or so. She wanted to try out a new color, foxy fuchsia," my mother said voice sounding a bit pained. "Do you want her to call you when she gets back?"

"No. I'll either call her or drop by this evening," I said.

"We're having roast chicken if you want to join us. Chocolate Devil's Food cake for desert with chocolate ice cream," she said.

I knew she wasn't either teasing or taunting me, she was enticing me. I also knew that Ranger required regular gym time and I'd been slacking lately. It was a calculated risk, but Devil's Food wasn't worth the potential 45 minutes of extra time I would surely have to log on the stair climber.

"I think if I can make it tonight, it'll have to be after dinner. Thanks for the invite," I said. I hung up as quickly as I could, we both knew that if I stayed on the phone any longer with her I was going to wind up hearing again about the ice cream and that wouldn't be a good thing.

I couldn't believe I had just turned down Devil's food cake.

I picked the phone back up and dialed. She answered on the first ring, to my relief.

"Mom?"

"Yes Stephanie?"

"I was wrong, I can make dinner, if it's OK with you," I said.

"See you tonight at six," she said.

I could tell she was smiling.

Dinner went off without incident. It was sumptuous as always. If there was ever a cooking show on how to roast a chicken, my mom could star in it; it was amazing.

After dinner, Dad had taken control of the living room to watch whatever sport was on for the evening and Mom was making cookies for Val's kids to take to school the next day. So Grandma and I went up to her room to talk.

"How's our little project coming along? Have you looked into the sex lives of those hunks you work with?""

"I've only seen part of one hand and felt part of another. I think I'm in over my head. I think it's time to get some help, Grandma," I said.

I told her that it seemed to be a little more complicated than the books had all indicated. There appeared to be an art to looking at someone's hands and telling them about themselves and their lives.

"Do you remember Francine Walker?" she asked.

"No."

"Doesn't matter, she died six years ago. Her son Ronny has one of them funky stores where the beatniks hang out, he might be able to help us."

"Beatniks?"

"You know, the hippy type. He might be able to help us find someone who can help you make some sense from these books. The sooner the books make sense, the sooner you can help me catch myself a honey with some money and a working package."

Oh god.

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	3. Chapter 3

Babe

Disclaimer: No money is exchanging hands in this endeavor…but maybe some day.

Thanks as always to those who are willing to endure me and beta for me: Bluzkat, Deb, Luisa and Melody. I play no favorites, I like alpha order, when I can remember the alphabet that is.

**Nothing but Time on My Hands**

**By Alfonsina**

**Chapter 3**

This whole palm reading thing had been as much my idea as it had been Grandma's, or so I thought initially.

The next Saturday, I loaded Grandma into my white 94 Corolla we headed to the 'hippy' section of town full of used book stores, organic food outlets and one teenie, tiny bookstore.

Fairy Godmother's Closet was about half the size of my apartment with about three times more stuff in it. The store was floor to ceiling in bookcases. Some of the bookcases had books others had jars of dried 'things' (could've been herbs, could've been weeds from someone's front yard), unusually shaped candles and rocks. Most of the titles on display appeared to be one of a kind, "Love Spells for the Lovelorn", "Clean and Balance Your Chakras While You Clean Your House", "How to Use Psychic Self Defense to Protect Your Heart", "The Magic of Dusting", "Feng Shui for Magickal Spaces", "I'm OK, You're Barely Mediocre".

A tall, lanky, and very angularly shaped older man wearing an old tie-dye t-shirt and torn jeans came out from the back. "Good morning, welcome to Fairy Godmother's Closet," he said. "How can I help you?"

It wasn't like any place I'd ever been and I wasn't overly comfortable in the store. In fact, I had been edging my way to the door when Grandma immediately piped up, "We need to know how to read palms. Actually my granddaughter is the one who needs the know-how. I want her to help pick out my next boy toy."

Lovely.

The man winked at Grandma like they were old conspirators. "Really, a boy toy? Wouldn't you rather have a _real man_?"

Five whole seconds of silence passed before anyone spoke again. Finally he looked at Grandma and gave her a dazzling smile, "I know what you're thinking, I'm probably too old for you." He looked me straight in the eye, "And I'm sure I'm too old for you."

I blushed, there isn't a whole lot of flirting in my life so it didn't take a lot for me to feel out of my depth. This man was flirting with both of us. It was both strange and awkward. To make it worse, when he smiled he reminded me of someone I knew, but I just couldn't place who. I hate it when that happens; now I was going to spend the rest of the day reviewing my mental inventory of faces. I guess it would be something to do on tonight's stakeout since I'd be with Ranger and he wouldn't let me _do_ anything but observe until or unless a skip was spotted.

"I'm in the market for a man who doesn't have to depend on batteries or pills, if you get my drift," Grandma said.

Over-share much, Grandma?

I know that I continued to blush at this exchange. This was reminding me of the story of Pinocchio and I was really hoping she didn't tell him that she wanted a wooden boy who would lie to her. At least it wasn't a field trip to Treasure Pleasures, I didn't think I could've endured flirting of any kind there.

"You are very open-minded to help," he said to me, again with that damned smile plastered on his face.

He didn't look phased by either Grandma or me. In fact, he looked like the kind of guy who'd seen it all and done most of it himself a couple of times, and not necessarily successfully.

At least it seemed like he wasn't going to be judgmental, just supportive for which I was grateful. It didn't take much for me to spill my guts to this stranger. Then again, some days all I needed was a little encouragement.

"Well, actually this was originally her brain child, but I can see a bigger picture in all of this, so I get to supply the 'talent' such as it is," I said. "But when I get enough experience to be good, I'd like to do it as a business on the side."

"Well, you've come to the right place. Fairy Godmother's has books and kits for just about everything you can imagine and probably a few things that haven't even crossed your mind yet."

"I've got a book, but it doesn't make any sense to me." I took the book I'd bought at the chain bookstore out of my bag and handed it to him. "Can you recommend something better?" I asked.

"Nope. It's not the book, sweetie. Are you sure you want to learn art from a book? No book can touch you or teach you like a person can. Palms are as much about the touch as about what is etched in them," he said. "It's tough to learn any form of art from a book and palmistry really is an art."

Lovely. I groaned. I sighed. I rolled my eyes. I sighed again.

"Palmistry is something you can easily learn the fundamentals of but you develop the real nuances of it over a lifetime of practice. Does anyone in your family have either mystical or magical tendencies?" he asked.

I didn't think he meant my ability to make cars go to heaven qualified me as either mystical or magical so I answered honestly, "There is no one that I know of. Grandma, we should just go. Thanks for your time."

I was almost to the door when he touched my elbow and smiled.

"You really don't know where you are or who I am," he said. "I haven't even introduced myself correctly, I'm Ronny Walker, proprietor."

"I'm Stephanie. Stephanie Plum. It's good to meet you," I said smiling.

I had no sooner gotten the words, "This is," out of my mouth than Grandma piped up, "Edna Mazur," said Grandma sticking out her hand. "You know, Ronny, age and experience might make me a better student than my granddaughter here."

"No, I think she's just the right student for this project," he said with a smile.

"So if you are the owner, why is it called 'Fairy Godmother's Closet'?" I asked.

"Growing up, my sisters had a thing for the Disney versions of Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty; the best parts, according to them, were the fairy godmothers and the magic they brought into deserving lives. Disney didn't represent a lot of fairy godfathers in his movies; if he had, I might've named the store differently," he said.

Makes sense.

"I can help you arrange to get instruction, it would be no problem. In fact, it is what I like to do best. I see it as a match making of sorts; matching the energy of teachers and students. I like to find pairings that will work well together," he said.

"Sorry. I don't have the cash a teacher would probably cost. I've got the money for a book, but that's about it," I said.

"I can help anyway, but you really do have to ask," he said.

"Ok. Can you help me arrange for an affordable teacher?" I asked just to humor him and so I could finally leave. Before he could answer I blurted out, "I really don't have the spare cash to pay for lessons in this."

"But you have no idea what price is involved or anything about the teacher. Don't be hasty in passing or making your judgments," he said. The smile on his face returned bigger than before. "The Universe has a way of providing to us exactly what we need if we just have the courage to ask for it."

"Oh, alright then, I'll ask. What will lessons in palmistry cost me?"

"The teacher I have in mind for you is flexible about payment. He works out the details and payment schedule individually with each of his students, and it isn't always monetary."

Just great. At the sound of the words 'he' combined with 'flexible' and 'payment schedule', I stepped behind Grandma. I didn't really want to know what kind of 'flexibility' might be involved, no matter who the teacher was. Ever since the 'deal' with Ranger anything that sounded 'flexible' about a 'payment schedule' had me nervous.

Grandma nudged me in the ribs with her elbow. Hard.

"So, hotshot, tell me about this teacher. Is he single _and_ flexible? Is he yoga type flexible? Because if he is, I might be the one interested," Grandma said. "And if his package works, I might be willing to make a deal for lessons all on my own." She looked over her shoulder at me and said, "She can be a bit of a fuddy duddy and a stick in the mud, I don't have that problem."

Before I could make a sound, Grandma gave me another shot to the ribs.

"I thought that most people who did this kind of a thing were almost always women," I said.

"Women tend to _sell_ it better in the public eye; they seem less intimidating. Men can be just as good," he said. He turned to me and said, "Now about that possible exchange, if you are serious and want to learn, I could use a little help around the store on Saturday mornings and maybe help around the holidays. You exchange with me and I've already exchanged with him, kind of a round robin but it will work out. What do you think?"

"Can you tell me something about this guy?" Grandma asked.

"Well, I can tell you he's unmarried and currently unattached but I don't think he's quite your type," he said to Grandma. "Can you wait a few minutes? He's bringing me lunch. I'd like you to meet."

"Sure," I said. Let's get this over with. God I hope it isn't Randy Briggs.

If I hadn't accepted his offer, Grandma would have given me the evil eye, or her best rendition of it. Thank God she didn't have the skill of Joe's Grandma Bella. Grandma Bella could probably have turned me into a frog or something worse with all the stuff in this store. Ronny's head fell back and a roar of a laugh erupted from his lips. I must have said that out loud.

Suddenly Grandma looked at her watch and realized that she forgot that she was going to do a 'fashion makeover' with Lula that afternoon. She didn't want to be late and since she was with me, I was going to have to have to drop her at Macy's.

Grandma decided that if she was going to actually catch a boy toy, she'd need some new duds to wear to attract him. Her social security check had just come in and it was burning a hole in her pocket. I asked if she wanted to wait until _we_ were ready to select the right guy. She responded that sometimes you can have an awful lot of fun with the wrong one until the right one showed up. It was a strategy I might need to employ myself, the drought was long and hard and I was getting lonely.

I left the store without meeting my teacher, the call of the potential suitor was one I couldn't compete with, turned out that neither could Ronny.

This was going to prove to be more interesting than I had initially thought.

**A/N: I promise we'll get to the various MM and Ranger soon.**

**Thanks for reading and reviewing … it encourages the muse, who acts like Lester. He likes to be the center of attention at all times and gets pouty when real life happens ... besos, Alf.**


	4. Chapter 4

Nothing But Time on My Hands

_Dislcaimer: No Merry Men have been humiliated, yet, in the writing of this fic. No money has exchanged hands. _

_Thanks as always to those who are wonderful enough to do my beta work: Bluzkat, Deb B, Kate Manoso, Luisa, and the famous Melody. I would still be staring into space if it weren't for your encouragement._

**Nothing But Time on My Hands**

**Chapter 4**

Labor for lessons was how I found myself dusting bookshelves and wiping down counters at Fairy Godmother's Closet on Saturday mornings. It freed Ronny up to work with clients and do readings of his own and it got his store ready for the next week. I still hadn't met the teacher or even gotten the courage to ask much about who he was.

The first Saturday I showed up, I dressed like I was going after skips; jeans, comfy shoes, hairy in a ponytail with minimal (but effective) makeup and a t-shirt that was tight enough to prove I was still a girl. I was a little lost as to dress code, so I used Ronny as my guide; he was pretty danged casual.

While there was a lull in clients, I watched as he was fixing something. We were laughing over a bad joke when the bell over the door tinkled. Before Ronny had a chance to get up from the workbench behind the counter, that someone walked into the store. Actually two someones dressed in tactical black walked into the store.

Crap. The delicate tinkle from over the door had been sounded by the highly indelicate Erik and Brett.

"Guys," I said, "whatcha doin' here? Get **lost** looking for a skip?"

"Erik spotted your Corolla. Figured you were probably in one of these stores," Brett said.

Erik was doing his impression of Ranger, saying nothing and observing everything around him as though it was going to be considered mission crucial at some future point.

"Found yourself a new job, Steph?" Erik asked.

"Part time gig," I said to them. "Guys, this is Ronny. Ronny this is Erik and Brett, I work with them sometimes."

"_Really?_" Ron asked. "Interesting," he said under his breath.

Huh?

"Guys, did you need something? Or are we done? I'm working," I said.

"We just came off shift looking for one of your regulars," Erik said.

"Who?" I asked. None of my regulars were high enough bond to ever interest Rangeman.

"Looney Larkin," Brett said.

"We've got a bet with Binky and Caesar. Lunch for a week that we can get him in under two hours and we've only got 45 minutes left," Erik said.

"What did Looney do?" I asked. Looney usually just displayed his Johnson at the park near his apartment. Not violent, just gross, especially for an 85 year old man. Guess he just wants to prove he still had one, whether or not it worked.

"The last time he was picked up, someone had just knocked over a liquor store and matched his description. Looney was in the neighborhood. No alibi and a big wad of cash in his pocket he couldn't explain to the cops."

People used to give Looney spare cash to close up his pants and put his Johnson away, must have been a big day for the cops to have been interested in his haul.

"Steph, please, we know you can get him to go for rebooking. He likes you," Brett said wiggling his eyebrows.

"What's in it for me? It's my day off," I said. I was scheduled for a surveillance shift later with Ranger, but that was just basically sitting on my hands for four hours so I didn't really count it as work. "Why don't I just tell you how I normally do it, won't that be enough?"

"We watched you the last time. We've been to the park and fed the ducks; he won't come out for us. But Erik did score phone numbers off of a couple of hot tamales."

I sighed. Great. They couldn't get an old man to come out, but they could pick up chicks. Why was I not surprised?

"How about a secondary bet, just the three of us? You get him and we'll each buy you anything want from this store," Brett said while he was looking around.

Obviously he hadn't seen the pink tourmaline pendant for 275 in the front counter or the matching earrings.

"If I don't get him?" I asked.

"If you don't get him, you cover one surveillance shift a piece sometime in the next month," Erik said.

"I get him to come out and get him cuffed, you guys take him in for booking and do all the paperwork?" I asked.

Ronny had said nothing during this entire exchange. Though his eyebrows went up at the idea of them buying me something from the store.

I looked over at Ronny and leaned into him before said into his ear, "My day job is part time bounty hunter, part time analyst where these guys work. I've got my eye on some nice pieces in the case." I paused before I said for the group's benefit, "Do you have any microwavable popcorn that I can borrow? I'll replace the bag, promise."

"Sure, Steph," he said.

Ronny and I had come to a silent agreement that I'd get Looney to come in and would come back when he was in custody. It seemed that he and I were able to ESP each other just a little, sweet.

"Gentlemen, it's a bet," I said. "Now, which one of you will give me his cuffs?"

I was answered by blank looks.

"I didn't dress for work this morning. I don't have a purse or anything with me except my ID, a twenty dollar bill and my keys, so I'm gonna need a pair. Who's gonna pony up?"

Erik said, "You can use mine, just don't lose them."

I remained the mature adult and waited to stick my tongue out at him until after he handed me his cuffs. You'd think I had a history of losing these things. Jeesh.

I put a bag in the microwave and popped it. When it was done, I told Ronny I'd be back as soon as I could.

I drove myself over to the park near Looney's apartment and selected a bench near the water but within sight of the Looney's apartment. Sometimes I just liked to feed the ducks and sometimes I was out to bring him in, he never knew which it was going to be. Since he'd already seen Ranger's guys today, he could feel pretty sure I wasn't there to bring him in.

I took a couple of pieces of popcorn for myself and then made a show of feeding some to the ducks. I took another couple pieces for me and shared again. This went on for about five minutes when Looney came out.

"Afternoon to you, Looney," I said holding the popcorn out to him.

He stuck his hand in the bag and said, "Afternoon, Steph. I just love springtime, don't you?"

"Nothing quite like feeding the ducks, is there?" I asked.

"Nope."

"Hey, you mind doing me a favor?" I asked him.

"What's the favor, hon?"

"I need to win a bet with a couple of guys. They don't think that I can get you to go downtown this afternoon for rebooking."

"Did I forget again?"

"Yeah, you did. You know that because those two are watching," I said indicating the guys walking around the pond, "I'm going to have to cuff you. It'll be just for show. You are OK with that, right?"

He held out his wrists and said, "Not too tight."

"Promise."

I cuffed him loosely in front of his body. He was old and wasn't violent. If the guys got a free viewing of Looney's Johnson, it wouldn't kill them and it would bring a smile to Looney's face. Besides, it wasn't like he was going to try to make an escape.

I signaled the guys who had been walking around the lake to come get Looney.

As Brett got Looney in the car, Erik asked, "Steph, what's with working for the old biker dude?"

Biker dude? Ronny? I mean, sure he was dressed like before wearing old tie dye and faded jeans. I really hadn't been paying attention to what he looked like, I was paying attention to what he was saying and what we were doing.

"Steph gonna do palm reading," Brett answered for me.

I shot Brett a dirty look. It wasn't like it was a secret or anything, but I kind of liked answering questions directed to me myself. Jeesh.

"Yeah, but why do you want to hang out with an old dude in a funky store like that?" Erik asked. "Shit. That guy's got hair as long as Ranger's and boots that look like they've actually seen combat."

So?

"They've got some majorly weird shit in that store. Did you see the candles? Man some of them are anatomically correct and come in colors that nature never intended," Brett said.

I glared at the pair of them this time. This wasn't about looks, sex, chemistry or what the store was selling. This was a professional endeavor, it didn't matter if Ronny was wearing a pair of Cookie Monster jammies with slippers sewn into the bottoms or a flesh colored Speedo, it was his store and he could dress anyway he wanted to. For me it was ultimately about what I could learn. Besides, my own jeans were a little rough looking and my hair wasn't at its best either, so probably this wasn't about chemistry or attraction for Ronny either.

Judgmental much gentlemen?

"I'm not going to dignify that. Don't forget that you both owe me the one item of my choosing from the store," I said.

"We'll be by after we've got Looney booked," Brett said.

I was going to need examples of lots of hands if I was going to make a success of reading palms. Sounded like they were both going become volunteers.

"Deal. But I've got plans for this afternoon and was gonna be out of there in another hour or so," I said.

x x x

When I got back to the store, Ronny was finishing up with a client.

I glued myself to the jewelry display after the client left. "Can I get a close look at the pendant in the front? Cause I think I'm in love with it," I said with a laugh.

"We need to make sure it is a good energetic match for you, before you own it. You do know there are earrings that match? Never mind, of course you do. Those guys don't realize that you've got such good taste, do they?"

"Nope, but they're gonna learn," I said.

f

"You know, there are some 'readers' who wear specific jewelry when they work; helps them to 'turn on' their abilities. It's interesting that you're attracted to tourmaline, it's my favorite and it's what I use to help me tune into people."

Cool. Not only did I have great taste, but this necklace might help me read people later and maybe this skill would come more easily to me.

I tried on the necklace and the earrings. Not only did they look good, but they felt amazing. I felt a special buzz through my entire body when I handled them. Ronny told me that this was a good sign, the stones liked me and would work well with me. All I had to do now was wait for my benefactors to come back to pay up.

Almost an hour and a half passed before the bell over the door tinkled and in walked my friends.

"Glad you gentlemen finally made it," I called to the front of the store. "You won't believe what good taste I've got."

The guys continued the length of the store to the backroom. I had the baubles displayed on the table, price tag facing them.

"You've got to be kidding, Steph. No way. I'm not doing it," Brett said.

"The bond wasn't for that much money," Erik said.

"Are you telling me you're cheap? You know that this is about 'quality' and matching my energy right?" I said.

"But Steph, come on. His body receipt wasn't worth that much. Besides, Ranger's got us on salary," Brett said.

"You know Ranger's gonna freak if he finds out about this," Erik said with a bit of panic in his voice.

"Sheesh. I wasn't planning on having you buy both. I'm thinking the necklace will be more than enough," I said.

Why should Ranger get upset? It wasn't like he and I were dating. He'd been gone a lot lately and when he was here he was incredibly distracted. Hell I hadn't had a date, or sex, since Morelli got a transfer to the St. Louis gang squad, and that had been more than three months ago. Sure I could have gone with Morelli, but then we'd probably wound up married and I really didn't want to go there yet with anybody. Too much of life needed to be lived here and now; not necessarily there with him.

I didn't normally buy jewelry for myself. Seldom if ever was it presented to me as a gift. This? This was different, I absolutely loved the way the necklace felt and it looked pretty good, too.

"I didn't think they sold stuff this nice," Erik said to Brett.

"Some dames are into the bling," Brett said with a sigh.

"Yeah, but she never wears bling. If you look at her, she's pretty low maintenance," Erik said.

"Guys, standing right here listening. Times change and my taste is improving. There is nothing wrong with a little sparkle now and then. Besides, I've done plenty of favors for you two for free. But if you want to develop a reputation for welching on your bets, we can go there. I think Ranger would be more angry that you won't honor your word than the fact that you bought me some jewelry," I said with an innocent smile.

Seldom if ever, did Rangemen lose their blank faces, but this was one of those rare moments. The bells over the door had sounded again during out little exchange. In walked Ranger looking unhappy at seeing us congregating in the store. He joined our little group and stood behind me.

"Boss," said Erik and Brett in unison.

He nodded at them, kissed my temple and said, "Babe."

"Hey Ranger," I said. "You know what?"

"What, Babe?" he asked.

"The boys just bought me a great piece jewelry. Do you like it?" I asked as I indicated the necklace in question. It wasn't actually true at the time, but this was one way of strong arming them into the purchase.

"Special occasion?" he asked.

"I helped them win a bet this morning. This is my payment," I said smiling.

"You help her pick out her purchase?" he asked in the direction of Ronny who was still sitting beside me at the table.

"Absolutely. I help people find what's right for them in as many avenues of their lives as possible. By the way, I'm Ronny Walker, proprietor of this establishment," he said offering Ranger his hand.

"Ranger Manoso."

Before things could get awkward, the bell tinkled again and a very familiar voice called out, "Hey, Pop."

The store was getting kind of crowded and it was hard to tell who it was that had just come in, but the voice had a very strong baritone timber to it.

"I missed you today. I wanted to introduce you to somebody. She's gonna be helping out a little around here," Ronny said, "but now I don't think you'll need much of an introduction."

The figure continued to the back. "This ought to be good," Erik muttered under his breath.

It was Woody.

"Hey guys. Steph. It looks like you've met my dad."

That's when I realized that I recognized what was so familiar with the smile, it was Woody's. Or did Woody have Ronny's smile? Whatever.

"Woody, your dad was a gunny," Ranger said.

"Marine for 26 years," Ronny said smiling. "This is a relatively new endeavor for me."

"So did you learn much today, Steph?" Woody asked. It sounded like he enjoyed talking shop.

"Yep, I just got the standard lectures to prep me for what's coming next. You know the one 'perfect practice is what makes perfect, not just practice'," I said quoting Ronny.

"I'm glad to see I'm not the only one he's inflicted that speech on. I've heard that particular speech my whole life, he applied it to everything from doing the dishes to shooting to this stuff. Anything else?" Woody asked me.

"I have a feeling I'm gonna need a bunch of volunteers before I get any good at this though. Anybody here want to volunteer?"

"You gonna tell me about my life for the next 30 years?" Erik asked. "I don't want to know."

"Me neither," said Brett.

Ranger just stood there being, well, Ranger. He said nothing but he was taking in the whole scene, but he had moved closer to where I was standing. In fact if he got much closer you wouldn't have been able to get so much as a piece of paper between parts of us.

"Well, if I learned this correctly, the idea is to look at your palm and see what you've been up to so far and if those trends might continue. It's not a definite road map to your future, you know free will still exists and all," I said.

"Very good," Ronny said. "You really were paying attention. After Woodrow here is done with the preliminary instructions, I'll be one of your initial practice palms. You should always start with people who know what you are looking at to make sure you are translating it correctly."

"You? You're the teacher, Woody?" I asked.

Everyone turned to look at Woody.

Woody shrugged and said, "Yeah."

Ronny and I had never gotten into the details about who the teacher was. We just talked about the important stuff: how old he was, he was straight with no kids, and the most important fact neither one of us was attached at the moment. We talked about the teacher being from a long line of 'seers' and he had fifteen years of reading behind him and teaching for ten of those.

"I've done it since I was a little kid. It's serious shit, Steph. You can't treat it like it's a party trick. A real reading is work," he said.

Ronny decided he didn't want to lose his sale. He looked at Brett and Erik and asked, "Which of you gentlemen is going to pay for this?" he asked indicating the necklace.

"That'd be me," Ranger said pulling out his wallet.

"Ranger, you don't have to make good on their bet. I don't want you to buy me jewelry," I said.

"Babe."

I knew Ranger was like the Borg in Star Trek, 'resistance is futile' and all that, so I decided not to argue.

"Thank you, Ranger," I said as I kissed him on the cheek.

He helped me put the necklace on. This gesture did not go unnoticed by any of the men in the store. Of course not, my life was an open book and everyone else got to have secrets.

Erik and Brett were getting ready to leave when Ranger said, "Gentlemen, you know better than to utilize Stephanie to win your bets. You will settle up with me. Meet me in the gym Monday 5:00 am. Any questions?"

"No." "None." Were the answers.

"Steph, why don't you hang it up for the day? You and Woodrow can compare calendars when you see each other at work," Ronny said.

"Sure. See you on Monday, Woody?" I asked gathering up my stuff. "Same time next Saturday, Ronny?"

Woody gave me the typical Rangeman nod, barely perceptible to the human eye.

"Sure thing, Steph. Thanks for coming and helping out," Ronny said.

"See you soon," I said to the two who remained in the store.

Ranger walked me back to my car and said, "Babe, is this really how you want to spend your free time?"

"I'm expanding my horizons, you always want me to do that, right?" I asked. "Hey, even though I love the necklace and I'm probably going to wear it all of the time, why did you buy it? You do so much for me already; you don't need to be spending your money on jewelry for me. I'll pay you back."

"Babe."

"No really Ranger, you didn't need to do it," I said.

"I like to see you in something I gave you," he said tucking a curl behind my ear.

"Thanks again, Ranger," I said softly.

"Gotta go, but I'll pick you up at 7:00 for surveillance tonight. Later Babe," he said as he gave me a gentle kiss.

Then he was gone.

I had already done my weekly quota of cleaning at Ronny's store, but no fairies were going to have cleaned my place so I headed home to do more of the same.

_A/N: I actually have been a palmist for a number of years and do not follow a lot of the 'standards' that are in the books. Woody will be explaining things to Steph the way I would do an actual reading._

_Woody is going to be a little shy about several things that are coming up, so please show him a little love and review._

_This is what the necklace looks like that Steph picked out. Actually fairly simple._ /jewelry/product.aspx?collection&deptid2200&navgems&partno3007952&size


	5. Chapter 5

Palmistry gives us a perspective on ourselves we might not have already had

_Disclaimer: No money is crossing any palms here, but it would be nice._

_Thanks as always to: Bluzkat, Deb B, Luisa, Melody and Ruth – your moral support and encouragement make all this nonsense possible!_

_Melody and Luisa have been the instruments played by the muse._

**Nothing But Time On My hands**

**Chapter 5**

**By Alfonsina**

My latest stakeout with Ranger over a week ago was typical. In his book it was good because nothing happened; no one got shot or injured. In my mind it was awful because nothing happened, nothing at all. Not only wouldn't he let me look at his hand at any point that night, but he wouldn't let me file my nails or chew gum. You'd think I was a distraction to the man or something.

Because I always felt obligated to watch my time when I was working for Ranger, Woody and I decided to meet when I was on a 'Vinnie' day and we'd get together between skips. We were going to start with a little Q & A session so he could find out what I already knew before we got to the 'good stuff' as Grandma was calling it. I knew most people had two hands with five fingers each; that would take about 10 seconds if I spoke slowly and used lots of visual aids.

Woody and I decided to meet up at the Good Earth, a little sandwich shop that specialized in natural and organic and happened to be just down the street from his dad's store. I hoped they sold real food and not just rabbit stuff. We met a little after the standard lunch rush was over so we could take our time and we wouldn't be taking up someone else's seat.

We took a large booth in the back and sat next to each other. The tea of the day was some organic something or other that was evidently the specialty of the house. Woody ordered a pitcher of it for us. If he ordered a whole pitcher it made me begin to think that we would probably be there the whole afternoon. I ordered a corned beef sandwich with fries and he told the waiter he'd have his 'usual'.

When the food finally arrived, I asked what 'the usual' was.

"Veggie burger," he said simply. "They're great and they don't scrimp on the important stuff like pickles."

"Vegetarian?" I asked. I was hoping not to get the standard 'I treat my body like a temple' speech, especially if I wasn't going to be worshipping there any time soon.

"Nope, but I eat a lot of veggies especially when I am gonna either read or teach. It just feels better that way. Wanna try a bite?"

Sure, why not? "Just one bite," I said.

Instead of either breaking off a piece or cutting off a part of the sandwich, he held it out for me to bite into. I took a small bite and closed my eyes when the sensation of the patty hit my taste buds. It was almost as good as meat. I sighed a contented sigh and kept my eyes closed while I chewed.

"You like that?" he asked with a smile on his face.

Oh yeah. "If we come here again, I'll definitely have that. Want some corned beef?" I asked.

"Not today, thanks. I crave this at least once a week," he said.

No wonder he was able to order 'the usual'.

We ate in relative silence, well as silent as two people who take their food seriously can ever eat. When we were done, Woody refilled the tea in our glasses and decided it was time to start the actual lesson.

"Steph, my dad and I aren't traditional palm readers or anything else really. Since I'm gonna train you, you won't be either. No books or notes required or even recommended. It's just gonna be you, me and lots of practice. By the way, you'll need to have someone's permission to do this because you are literally looking at the patterns that have made up their lives and their personalities."

"So you are saying that I'll be able to see somebody's deepest, darkest secrets?"

"Not quite, you won't know the specifics, but you'll know what makes them tick. Not everyone wants the rest of the world to know what happened to make them who they are today," he said to me. "But I can tell you that you will be able to tell who is open and who tends to be secretive."

Now that could be interesting. I didn't have a lot of secrets of my own, but I kept confidences pretty well.

"My whole life has been an open book pretty much, well, forever. I can see where someone would want to have some privacy or even crave it," I said.

"Good. So before every session, you should ask for permission to enter that person's energy and space. When they say 'yes', you will have an easier time doing the work and everyone knows what is going on," he said.

"I can do that."

"Now, I want you to be comfortable with me, so I am going to show you some things on me before you start looking at your own hand or anyone else's. You'll get to know me and you won't have to be self conscious. But before we start, I'm giving you permission to share my energetic space. Will you share yours with me?" he asked.

"I guess."

"Steph, the Universe likes clarity, please say yes or no. Think of it as good practice for you to learn to say 'yes' to new experiences," he said.

"Yes." Not too tough and new experiences were good, right?

He moved closer toward me in the booth so we were touching pretty much from the shoulders all the way down, "I want you to see what I am seeing. Now I want you to take one of my hands and just look at it and feel it. Tell me what your impressions are and what you feel about what you are experiencing," he said.

I took his hand and looked at it.

"Everything?" I asked.

"Whatever comes to mind," he said.

"Well, your hand's a lot bigger than mine. Mine looks like a child's hand compared to yours. You cut your nails recently, but you could sure use some hand lotion. Jeesh your skin is rough. Let's see, your hand is warm and sort of calloused on the inside. And despite the fact that you've got dark brown hair, your skin's got a lot of pink in it," I said smiling at him still holding his hand. It felt really nice in my hand, but I didn't think I wanted to tell him that. I was thinking of what else I might say when I heard the voice of doom come from the other side of the restaurant.

"Stephanie!"

Great, I'd been spotted by my grandmother and her friend Althea Eckbow. This was surely going to bring my lesson to a grinding halt.

"Grandma, Mrs. Eckbow, what brings you here this afternoon?" I asked. Great, let the grilling begin.

"I took Althea here to look at some of those fancy candles down at that bookstore down the street. Did you know that some of them wax peckers are larger than your grandfather's ever was?" she asked.

Just when it looked like she was going to elaborate, Mrs. Eckbow got her attention and started to shake her head at Grandma. Grandma got the message and changed subjects.

"Who is this long, tall drink of water you are with?" she asked.

"Grandma and Mrs. Eckbow, this is Woody. We work together. Woody this is my grandma, Edna Mazur, and Mrs. Eckbow," I said.

"Are you gonna be her boy toy?" Grandma asked waggling her eyebrows at Woody. "She's been on a dry spell lately and it makes her cranky. I'd like to see you put a special smile on her face and a glow on her skin."

I don't know which of us turned redder, Woody or me. Woody for finding out something he didn't really need to know or me for being outed by my grandma. I always thought of my dry spells as my own damned business, not everyone else's.

"Just friends Grandma," I said.

"Well, you don't sit that close with your other friends or hold hands in public unless you are dating, do you? If this is friendship, I need a lot more 'friends'," she said with a wink.

"Grandma," I started to say.

"Edna, leave the kids alone. They're obviously having a lunch date. They don't need a couple of old ladies killing the mood," Mrs. Eckbow said to my grandmother.

Great. It looked to the world like I was dating a Merry Man. Well, why not? He's cute, he's single and he's not on my FTA list so I guess it could be alright. I just never thought about Woody or any of the guys that way. Ok, I did think of some of them that way when I was alone in the shower. Normally Ranger was the only one to star in my fantasies, even when Joe was still part of my life, but each of them had played the starring role once in a while.

Mrs. Eckbow decided that Grandma wasn't moving fast enough and literally began to drag her out of the restaurant.

"Steph, when're you gonna be able to interview my first fella?" Grandma asked as she was being walked out the door.

I looked over at Woody who raised an eyebrow at me.

I turned to face Woody and leaned in so I could whisper to him, "What? Didn't you know that's one of the reasons I'm doing this?" From the look on his face, I guessed his dad hadn't told him my motivation.

He shook his head.

I panicked briefly and immediately continued whispering, "You are still going to teach me aren't you? I can't be held responsible for what comes out of my grandmother's mouth."

"We're gonna have a lot of work to do. Tell her a month. You'll probably be able to read pretty well in a couple of weeks, but four or five weeks should take off the pressure," he said quietly into my ear.

"Give me a month, Grandma and then we'll see how things are coming," I said with a smile.

Both women went to the door and waved as they left.

"That's your motivation? You're going to help your grandmother with 'relationship' issues?" he asked.

"Is that a problem?"

"No, just not how my dad presented it to me. I really wish we would've met up the first day. I want you to know I've been feeling sort of awkward about this whole thing," he said.

"Why do you feel awkward? What's changed?"

"Well, let's put it this way, my dad likes to think of himself as a matchmaker on a lot of levels, and not just the teacher/student thing." Oh. Oh crap. "He's been trying to find someone he 'approves' of for a long time. Someone who would understand and accept both of us. We aren't exactly conventional," he said. "People tend to think of my dad as being about half a bubble off center, ya know?"

I'd been foisted, on Woody not just a student but as a potential girlfriend. How do you tell a really nice guy that you weren't looking for a love connection? How was I going to let him down gently?

I had said nothing for a whole twelve seconds, a personal best. I know because I counted them, 'one Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi, …' until I got to twelve. I was getting ready to say something when he started.

"Steph, don't get me wrong, I like you. I like you a lot, but I just don't think of you that way. I mean I probably could, and we could both work on it if that's what you want. We've been through a lot of stuff together and I really feel like I'm your brother. My dad's trying to be helpful, but sometimes the harder he tries the harder it is for me. I really hope you weren't thinking that I was doing this in order to begin a romantic relationship with you."

My god, a Merry Man who babbled. What a relief, I wasn't going to be dealing with a lot of silence in this endeavor. Then I felt a wave of relief mixed with just a twinge of disappointment. I really wasn't looking for a relationship with Woody, but knowing I wasn't on the list of possibilities got to me just a little bit. I guess I liked having my ego stroked as much as the next girl.

"It's fine, really. I wasn't looking for your dad to make a 'love match' either, but it does explain why he was so anxious about me working with you."

I looked down and realized I was still holding on to Woody's hand. It was really starting to look like a date.

We finished up our drinks and decided to end the lesson ended early. We went our separate ways. Me to find Merv Michaela, he'd been caught shop lifting at Ammo 'R Us and clocked a cop with a brick of .22s when he was arrested. Woody went to help Rangeman save the world from whatever it was the world needed saving from today.

I had just gotten Merv booked when my mother called to have me pick up my grandmother at the Clip 'N Curl after she was done with her weekly hairdo.

I arrived early and was standing in the entrance when I heard myself being discussed.

"Dotty, you should've seen the stud my Stephanie was with earlier today. Looks like she's finally caught herself a live one," Grandma said to the woman who was unwinding her hair from the rollers.

"As good as all that?" Dotty asked.

"Reminded me of what my Harry looked like in his prime," Grandma said. "I could've sworn they broke the mold when they made Harry, but now it looks like years later they still had some of the extra good stuff to pour into that mold and Stephanie is going to benefit."

"Althea, you were there," Dotty said. "Was he really that handsome?"

"That and more. I'd say Stephanie's new boyfriend is a real catch. Not only is he a looker but isn't at all afraid of displaying his affections."

"Lots of kissing then?"

"No, but they couldn't've been closer together unless there was only one chair. Those two were holding hands like they were still in high school. Young love is cute," Althea said.

"Honey, at our age, any kind of love is cute," Dotty said.

"I'm hoping I'll be able to double date with her when I find my own stud," Grandma said. "I'd better get on the stick. She kept telling me she wasn't looking for anyone and now all of a sudden this Cary Grant type falls at her feet. She seems to have all the luck getting the lookers."

After hearing this and realizing that my life was back under the microscope, I decided now was a good time to hyperventilate. But I couldn't hyperventilate without drawing attention to myself. Instead I decided that I would get angry and take action. I backed myself out of the shop to get a little bit of privacy. I took out my cell phone. I dialed Woody's cell number and got no answer so I left an urgent voicemail. I sent him a text message in case that came through faster for him to call me immediately.

It looked like I probably wasn't going to beat the rumor mill. It seemed that whenever I needed to play 'beat the clock' with the Burg grapevine, the Burg always won. From all appearances, that was going to happen again. Fudge.

I also knew I couldn't get to Mom's house to talk to her in person without leaving Grandma at the shop. I didn't want to leave Grandma's mouth unsupervised for longer than it already had been. So I called my mom to see if I could stem the tide.

The line rang busy. I pressed redial, still busy. I repeated the process at least four more times. Finally she answered.

"Mom?"

"Stephanie, what's this I'm hearing about you and a new boyfriend? Are you bringing him to dinner? We're having turkey breast with roast potatoes tonight. Your grandmother has already made her famous apple crisp."

Evidently Grandma and Mrs. Eckbow had talked to someone earlier and gotten the grapevine started before they even got to the Clip 'N Curl. Now my mother was playing hardball by having one my favorites for dessert. We both knew it was hardball and there was no way around it.

"Mom, I don't have a new boyfriend. Grandma saw me having lunch with one of the guys and she read the situation all wrong. Before this hits the grapevine, I want you to know I'm not dating anyone."

"I still expect you to bring him to dinner tonight," my mother said. "No excuses."

"I don't even know if Woody is off tonight," I said hoping this might work even just a little to ease up on the pressure.

"Even if he can't come, you come anyway and tell us all about him," she said. "I want to know all about the boy is that is generating these phone calls and I want to see what he looks like. Bring a picture if he can't come with you."

Lovely.

What did Woody look like? Woody looked like Woody. He's 6'2" with lots of muscle, dark blue (almost navy blue) eyes, wavy but short dark hair, a cleft chin, strong jaw, dimples, a smile that lights up his entire face and an ass so tight you could bounce quarters off of it. I guess he did look like an overbuilt Cary Grant. (farm3.static./2036/1604188768524f0d06cd.jpg?v0)

Sometime during all the phone calls, my grandmother's hair was appropriately teased and shellacked for the week.

"Ready to roll, Grandma," I asked feigning brightness in my voice. I didn't want to make a scene in front of her friends.

"Ready when you are, Speed Racer," she said to me while waiving at the girls over her shoulder.

Grandma and I got into the car and were almost to the house when my phone sounded Woody the Woodpecker theme song. So it wasn't original, I at least knew who it was. After all, I'd assigned Lester "Too Sexy" and Brett "Sexy Back" ring tones, so why not Woody the Woodpecker?

"Woody? Can I call you in like, ten minutes?" I asked, before I realized I hadn't even given him time to identify himself or say 'hello'.

"Sure thing Steph, I'll be waiting for you to," he was saying as I hung up on him.

The conversation with Woody was one I needed to have with him alone and not with a pair of little ears in the car.

Grandma was looking pretty proud of herself at that point. Of course she was proud of herself. We both knew what she'd been up to so I called her on it.

"Grandma, just how many people have you told that I had lunch today with one of the guys?" I asked.

"Well, there's Mabel Smith and Anita Finnochero and Eldina Grant, plus all the girls at the Clip 'N Curl," she said innocently.

Great. When you added Althea Eckbow to the list we were talking about the core of the Burg grapevine.

"Why?" she asked.

"Why? Because I want to know how big a hose I'm gonna need to use to put out the fire you've started about me and Woody," I said trying hard to keep my eyes on the road. "Nothing's going on with Woody, Grandma, and I don't appreciate that you are trying to make it sound like there is."

"But don't ya want something to go on with him? He's one fine piece of meat. He's choice. He's grade A. He's in his prime. You're gonna be past your own prime soon," she said.

Thanks for that, Grandma.

I personally thought of all of the Rangemen as beefcakes, and especially fine quality, but it was creepy to hear it coming from my grandmother with such enthusiasm. And I definitely didn't appreciate the fact she was telling me that I was soon going to eclipse my 'sell by date'.

"He might be choice, but I didn't go to the meat counter and choose him and he didn't choose me. Got it? No more rumors or half baked stories about me with Woody, OK?"

"If that's the way it's got to be," she said blowing out a sigh.

"Yeah Grandma, that's the way it is so that's the way it's got to be."

"You sure you just want to be friends with him? Looks like he'd have a nice package and know just what to do with it," she said.

"Yeah, I'm sure," I said.

I dropped her at the door and I called Woody back.

"Yo," he said.

"It's Steph. Sorry for hanging up on you like that. We've got a situation and I really need your help," I said.

"What's going on?"

"You may want to pull over to the side of the road for this," I said.

"Steph, not really an option right now. Just spill it, it'll all be OK. I promise," he said.

Alright then, he asked for it. "Just how badly does your dad want you to have a girlfriend?" I asked.

He said, "He wants it pretty badly. He seems to think that now is the right time, you know the proper planetary alignment and all that. Why?"

"According to the Burg, you've got one now," I said.

"What are you talking about?" he sounded confused. Woody hadn't been the subject of much speculation in the Burg, he was lucky. I knew from experience it would take a lot to make this go away.

"The grapevine in the Burg has us as their newest 'hot and heavy couple'. This is courtesy of my grandmother and her friend." At least I knew what the source of the rumor was and what had created it. I continued, "My mother insists that I take you to dinner at her house tonight. She wants to get to know you. And I think she's going to ask you to make your intentions towards me clear. Would you be willing to come to let them know that we aren't an item?" I asked.

"I can meet you there or I can pick you up. What do you wanna do?" he asked.

"Pick me up at my place. I need to get cleaned up from the afternoon and I need some more mascara," I said. "Can you meet me at 5:45?"

"I can, but I'll have to go in uniform. OK with you?"

Woody filled out the uniform nicely, so it was no hardship for me to look at him all night in it. I knew that it would be easier for me to show up in _regular_ clothes, less being lectured by my mother for my choices job, lifestyle, clothes.

We ended the call. I headed back to my apartment to overhaul my look for the evening. Normally it wouldn't take too much, but I was going to need all the protection extra mascara was going to give me and I liked it to have some time between coats to dry. Tonight I was probably only going to need five or six coats, maybe seven.

I took an extra long shower and did the whole beautification process like it was a date, but it wasn't a date. Not a real date. Not with Woody. Was it? By the time the hot water almost ran out, I decided it wasn't really a date.

A couple of months ago I had started to use some of the Philosophy bath stuff to get a little variety. There was only so much turning myself on with Ranger's Bulgari a girl could take and my shower massager was broken. In fact, I hadn't seen shower massagers on sale for a while. I decided to use Amazing Grace shower gel and fragrance. It smelled fresh and clean and not sexy or romantic; I didn't want to smell sexy just clean.

I put on my second best pair of butt enhancing jeans, a pair of flats and a print button down top. I wanted to look good but not too good. If I was too dolled up my mother and grandmother would think that I was trying to impress Woody or them. My father? He would barely notice I was there, provided dinner was on the table on time and it wasn't burned or overly dry.

I met Woody in the complex parking lot. He got there at 5:44. What was it with Rangemen and punctuality anyway? It was almost like they got an atomic clock and a timer installed when they signed their contracts.

We got to my mother's at 5:59:45. We couldn't have cut it any closer if we tried.

**A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing. Besos, Alf**

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Page 10 of 10


	6. Chapter 6

Nothing But Time On My hands

**Nothing But Time On My hands**

**Chapter 6**

**By Alfonsina**

Woody brought along a bottle of dessert wine for my mother as a hostess gift. For all the times Joe had been to dinner, he only brought my mother something when he tried to smooth over the fact that we weren't engaged. Woody definitely had manners and this wasn't missed on my mother.

Dinner was quiet and uneventful, well as quiet as could be expected. My father didn't even look up when Woody said he was teaching me palmistry, he just asked my mother to pass more potatoes. When Woody explained that we were just friends and weren't planning on dating, my father asked for more green beans. Overall Dad handled the news well. My grandmother kept offering to take over any responsibilities with Woody that I was shunning. My mother went into the kitchen a couple of times to clear her head and probably to take a nip.

Woody opened the wine and we had it with dessert. Woody had two glasses of wine and three helpings of dessert, Grandma kept commenting that he was a growing boy after all. He looked pretty normal to me while we were sitting down, but things changed when we made it to the door. He was weaving while he was walking and his coordination seemed to be off.

We were standing on the front stoop when I realized that there was no way I was going to let him drive us anywhere.

"Woody, give me the keys and I'll drive," I said.

"You got to dig for 'em," he slurred.

Great. "Which pocket?" I asked.

"I'm not telling. You're gonna have to frisk me," he giggled. "I've always wanted a girl to do this. This is supposed to be fun." At least he was happy when he was drunk.

I closed my eyes and started to pat him down. I started on the front and found nothing, so I put my hand in his front pant's pocket. I felt around and found only loose change and some smooth things that weren't keys and weren't coins. I changed sides and still nothing that was useful, just a pocket knife, his cell phone and a hanky.

"Woody, where'd you stick the keys?" I asked.

"You're gonna have to look," he said.

Great, I'm gonna have to call Rangeman and have someone come rescue us because I don't want to search Woody's pockets.

Meanwhile, Woody stumbled to the SUV and 'assumed the position' for the rest of his pat down. Seemed he was having a good time. Nice that one of us was. I might've enjoyed this under other circumstances, however, I could almost swear I heard the phone starting to ring inside the house.

"Come on, where are they?" I asked.

"In the back next to my wallet," he said.

"Which side?" I asked with a sigh.

He giggled in response. Great. Just great.

I stood behind him and patted his rear until I found a lump that wasn't his rear and wasn't a firearm. I put my hand in that pocket.

"You know you've always wanted to do that," he said winking at me and slightly angling his body.

OK, so I had, he was right. There was no way I was going to admit that to him here and now. Besides, now he had my hand trapped in his pocket.

"Quit moving or I'll never get it out," I said.

"Spoilsport," he said.

I finally freed my hand and the keys. I opened the passenger door and effectively poured Woody into the seat and buckled him in. I got in on the driver's side, made the necessary adjustments and turned the radio to some quiet jazz. There was no point in having heart pounding music this late in the evening.

"God, Ranger's lucky," he said so quietly I barely heard him.

"What are you talking about?" I asked.

"If you weren't an item, I'd find out if we could be more than friends. I'd worship you like the goddess you are."

"Ranger and I are just friends like you and I are just friends," I said. Was this really Woody or was this just the wine talking?

"I just keep seeing you in my dreams, visions," he slurred.

"Now's not a good time for me. I don't know what I want. I just ended one relationship with a guy who wanted me to be someone else. I'm trying to figure out who I am and what I want."

"Shame the rumors won't become true," he said in a sleepy voice. "I could be the one you want."

He was probably right. In a lot of ways Woody had everything I ever wanted. On the one hand, he was sweet, kind, thoughtful and was very accepting. On the other hand I was letting myself get over Morelli. I'd never really gotten over the 'non-relationship' relationship I had with Ranger. For right now I didn't want to think about anything that might complicate my life.

I doubted Woody would want to pick up this conversation when he was sober. I knew in my past I'd made confessions under the influence of the grape and was always grateful not to hear my words quoted back to me the next day. I decided to afford Woody the same courtesy.

I got us to my complex parking lot when I realized that Woody was asleep and drooling. The way I saw it I had three choices. Door number one, I could drive back to Rangeman and alert the office to the fact he was inebriated. Door number two, he could sleep in the parking lot. Nah, too dangerous. I choose door number three, the door that always seemed to get me into trouble.

"Woody, we're home," I said after I turned off the ignition.

"Cool," he slurred.

"You've got to get out of the car now," I said.

"You're gonna have to help me," he said.

I hoped he wasn't going to toss his cookies all over the parking lot or even in my apartment.

I got out of the SUV on my side and walked over to his door and opened it. He all but spilled out of the car on top of me. I got us both righted and had my arms around his waist as I walked him into the lobby.

I pressed the button to call the elevator. It opened with Mrs. Bestler standing inside. I indicated the second floor and she responded by saying, "Second floor: hangovers, sleeping bags and porcelain gods."

The woman could be prophetic. At least she hadn't said, "Second floor: condoms, boy toys and naughty knickers." She'd only done it to me once and that was more than enough.

I dragged Woody to my door and got it open. He staggered inside and wandered toward the bathroom, some stumbling and then the sound of the toilet flushing. I was still standing in the living room when I realized he never came back. Instead, Woody put himself down on top of my bed. Great, now where was I going to sleep?

"Woody, what time are you on tomorrow?" I asked in a whisper. I wanted to set an alarm to make sure he got up in time for some coffee that might go along with a hangover.

I was met with snoring. Not just regular snoring, but this was the kind of snoring that could peel paint from the walls. I decided then that there was no way I was going to try to share my bed with Woody. I closed the door and prayed that the reverb wouldn't penetrate into the living room.

I called the Rangeman switchboard.

"Rangeman," said the voice.

"Zero, it's Steph. You don't have the schedule for tomorrow do you?"

"No, but I can get it," he said as he put me on hold. Where was the 'can you hold please'? Evidently Ranger was economizing by skipping phone etiquette classes for the switchboard.

Eventually Zero came back on and said, "You aren't on the schedule for tomorrow. Ranger is on at 10:00."

"Actually, I wanted to know what time Woody was scheduled," I said.

"Let's see, looks like 0700. Anything else for you, Steph?" he asked.

"No, that'll do it. Have a great …" I was going to say 'night' when I realized I was talking to dead air.

Now I was going to have to figure out what time to set the alarm. If Woody had to be to the office at 7:00 and to get there from here at in early morning traffic took about half an hour that would be 6:30. If he was a coffee drinker and wanted a shower would probably take another fifteen minutes to half an hour, so that pushed it to 6:00. If he wasn't a morning person, he'd probably want to snooze the alarm at least once. Shit. I was going to have to set the alarm for 5:45 a.m. and hope that he was easy to wake up.

I pulled off Woody's Bates boots and covered his snoring form with an old afghan before I grabbed something to sleep in and got myself ready for a long night on the sofa.

xx

I woke to a sore back, the sound of water running and a pair of familiar brown eyes staring at me.

"Got yourself another stalker, Babe?" Ranger asked.

I just looked at him, rubbed my eyes and tried to think.

"Stalker? What are you talking about?"

"Babe, Woody's SUV's in the lot. And Woody's not in it."

"Oh yeah. Woody's here."

"Something you haven't been telling me about? Do you trust my men now more than you trust me?" His voice sounded something between angry and hurt. I knew Ranger did angry; I'd never seen or heard him be hurt.

"No stalker, Ranger," I said with a yawn. "Thank God."

"Then why did he stay the night?" he asked.

Stay the night? What was he going on about? Then I remembered a very inebriated and almost giddy Woody late last night.

"He got a little drunk last night. We had dinner with my family. I was tired and didn't want to drive him all the way to Rangeman when he could sleep it off here."

I hadn't heard the alarm go off. Woody must've gotten up when his body told him he'd had enough sleep. My body never did that. My body greeted early in the morning kicking and screaming.

"Where exactly did he sleep?"

"The bed."

"And you slept?" he asked.

"Right here where you found me," I said patting the sofa. "Not as comfortable as I remember it, but better than the floor." One day I was going to get some decent furniture, but that day wasn't in the near future.

Normally I like to wear sexy, or at the very least, cute stuff to sleep in. This morning I was grateful that I was wearing an old fashioned flannel nightgown and tube socks. I wasn't even going to think about the serious case of bed head I was sure I was sporting. It was too early in the day to get anybody's hormones excited for nothing. I knew that between the outfit and the hair nobody was going to get a thrill.

I stood and attempted a stretch; I felt like an old woman, everything cracked and I made some unattractive grunting sounds. Definitely, I had given my inner sex-goddess the morning off.

"Hey, I didn't think we were going to go running this morning. You forget to tell me again?" I asked. He normally didn't tell me when we were going to go running so I figured this was a safe topic to use for a minor distraction.

"Babe."

I decided to wait him out, just to see if he would say anything first. He did, but it took him a while. I hadn't had any coffee yet and it was safer for me to stay quiet as long as I could.

"Any reason he had dinner with you and your family last night?"

"It's a long story. Plus the grapevine needed to be re-calibrated," I said simply.

"What's on the grapevine now?" he asked.

"I'm dating Woody," I said before I realized the words were out of my mouth.

"I hope you'll be happy together," he said.

"Of all people, you should know that I'm not dating anyone," I said. I never could keep secrets from Ranger, or from anyone else really.

Just when I thought Ranger might say or do something, anything, Woody came out of the bathroom dressed in last night's clothes. He was moving like it was a painful experience.

"Morning, Steph," Woody mumbled. "Morning, boss."

"Sleep well Woody?" I asked.

"Well enough. Thanks for letting me crash here," he said. He leaned into me and whispered, "I didn't say or do anything to embarrass you last night, did I?"

"No. You were a perfect gentleman," I said.

"Good. I tend to talk too much when I drink," he said quietly.

Ranger glowered first at Woody and then at me. The brief silence was so thick you could've cut it with a knife and served it with fudge sauce.

"Steph, I'm gonna hit the road. Thanks for last night. Let's do it again some time, without the wine. By the way, I think your grandma's a hoot," he said as headed for the door. Obviously he wasn't remembering the three attempts Grandma made to pinch his ass or her comments about men with large hands. "Got any aspirin? Oh yeah, and what about keys?"

I silently grabbed the keys off the dining table and handed them to him. I reached into the brown bear cookie jar and fished out the bottle of aspirin and poured out two tablets.

Ranger followed Woody out the door. The two men had a rather brief and probably uncomfortable exchange in the hallway. I didn't know what was said, exactly. I did know that Ranger's mood seemed a tiny bit improved when he came back inside.

After Woody left, I asked Ranger if he wanted something. He said nothing, gave me a quick hug, kissed me on the forehead and left.

"See you later, Babe," he said as he closed the door.

Damn it, Ranger left without ever even telling me why he'd come. What else was new?

I made the executive decision to have some quality one-on-one time with my pillow. I'd been neglecting it lately and needed to make amends.

xx

I would've gotten up when the alarm went off, except that I never heard it. It was 9:00 when I realized the time and rolled out of bed.

I put on the clothes that I had on the night before, put on one coat of mascara and flew into the parking lot to get to the bonds office before it got a whole lot later.

"Girl, you're a little frazzled this morning," said Lula. "Long night?"

"I didn't sleep well last night and when I finally did get some quality shut eye, I over slept," I said.

"Yeah, we been hearing about you and a new hottie," she said. "Sure it wasn't a long night in a good way? Heard there was a black SUV in your parking lot until the very early hours this morning."

Connie looked up at me over her coffee cup and said, "Spill."

"Nothing to spill," I said as I grabbed myself a cup of coffee. It was the boring truth but they were looking for something, anything to keep life around the office interesting. "Do you have any new files for me?"

"Well, it doesn't look like you're getting any _quite_ yet," Lula said. "Things must be pretty new or you're taking it pretty slow."

"My guess is for slow," Connie said. "Although, there's a great sale on Trojan Natural Skin condoms this week at Target."

Great. Mind my business much?

"Thanks for that, but I don't need any. There is no one new in my life, promise," I said. I looked at both of them when I asked, "Got any new files for me, Connie?"

She handed me three files from the top of her desk along with the requisite forms for signature. "Sure there's not, Steph. Sure."

"I'm not seeing anybody," I said at full volume to the room.

"Well who was it that was draped all over you in front of your momma's house playing a game of slap and tickle?" Lula asked.

"He was not draped all over…" I was starting to say when I got the feeling that this was no longer a 'hen only coffee clutch'. Ranger had arrived and was standing behind me.

"Ranger's standing right behind me, isn't he?" I asked Connie and Lula. They nodded. I turned around and said, "Morning Ranger."

"Babe. Ladies," he said, ever the economist of words.

He gave me a look that I couldn't read. Some days I really wished I could read his looks; most of them looked the same unless there was a really intense emotion involved. There were other days, like today, when I was glad I couldn't tell what he meant. If I could read his look, it meant I'd have to deal with what it might mean and I wasn't up for that today.

"He in?" Ranger asked Connie.

"Yeah, he just got here," she said.

I felt a distinctive chill as Ranger brushed past me, walked towards the weasel's office and closed the door.

"Now you've gotta spill," Connie said. "Who was it? Do I know him? Just how hot is he? I've heard he was the kind of hot that winds up posing for calendars wearing nothing but a smile and a thin coating of baby oil."

"If you ever want another doughnut in this office, you're gonna tell Connie and me everything and you're gonna give us all the juicy details," Lula added.

Wonderful.

"Guys, there are no details. I've got to make some money. Rex needs hamster pellets and new shavings for his cage," I said as I walked out the door. I was pretty proud of myself, I hadn't given away his name or any details. Then again, the day was still young.

"Miss Thing, this ain't over yet," Lula called after me.

"Maybe not," I muttered. "But it is over for today."

Just then my phone played the Woody the Woodpecker theme song. I dug it out of my pocket I answered saying, "Hey, were your ears burning?"

"You up for your next lesson?" he asked.

"What time and where?" I asked into the phone. "OK, meet you there."

I met Woody three hours later at the Rangeman break room. It had just been repainted so the door hadn't been re-attached to the hinges, not that the door was closed that often anyway. I knew things wouldn't get personal in here because anybody could and might just join us.

I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and sat down when he said to me, "We need to talk about the future."

Future. Future? Whose future? Mine? His? Ours? Crap. I wasn't ready to talk about any kind of a future with him. We were still on the just friends track, weren't we?

I must have looked incredibly panicked because he put his hand over mind, looked me in the eye and said, "Not yours. I mean the future in general. When you are talking to people about reading their palms they always have questions about the future."

I nodded at him. I was relieved that this wasn't going to go down an uncomfortable road. We were going to have the ethics portion of the palmistry lessons here and now.

"If I or anybody else told you five years ago you'd be a bounty hunter, would you have believed them?" he asked.

I snorted. "God no. I was doing the whole lingerie buying thing for EE Martin. I wasn't even over my divorce yet. I would have thought you were off your rocker."

"Exactly," Woody said. "Free will exists. You might have heard that prediction from someone who was meaning well and then done one of two things. The first would have been to do everything in your power to make it happen, provided it was a future you really thought you wanted for yourself. The second would have been to have done everything you could to avoid this possible outcome."

I looked at him and nodded. It seemed that I nodded a lot when I was with Woody.

"People have virtually unlimited futures available to them all of the time. But once they make one decision to either do or not do a thing, they lose a bunch of those futures and get a lot of new possible futures in their place," he said. "You with me?"

"I don't get it," I said. I was sure it wasn't all that complicated, but I wasn't really paying attention. Abstract ideas don't really hold my attention, it was part of the problem I had in college. Seemed some things in my life never changed.

"Let me try again. If I tell you that you are going to get a high dollar skip the first thing tomorrow and you believe me, what are you going to do when you get home tonight?" he asked.

"You mean after I'm done picking out new things to order from the Victoria's Secret catalog?" I asked.

He nodded.

"Let's see, I'd make sure my gun was loaded and I had extra ammo. I'd line up my clothes for the next day. I'd go to bed early so I'd be fresh in the morning," I said as I was ticking things off of my mental list. Maybe I'd even clean out my purse and make sure my stun gun was charged, but I wasn't sure I'd really do that.

"All positive things, right?" he asked. "All things that would likely increase your odds of getting the high dollar skip?"

"Yeah, what's your point?" I asked.

"I'll get there. Now how about I tell you that you aren't going to catch that high dollar skip tomorrow? That someone else was destined to bring him in?" he asked. "Then what would you do?"

"Probably eat some Ben and Jerry's, watch a bad movie on TV, have a beer and go to bed," I said. I was contemplating a pity party and things I could do to keep my expenses down.

"So do you see how your actions and attitude could be impacted by me? And I have no idea if you even have any outstanding files that you consider to be high dollar," he said.

Ok. I guess that made sense.

"Steph, I make it a point to not read someone's future because it's all subject to change at any time. I think that people should be able to make their own futures based on their own decisions. That's the way I'm going to teach you to work and read," he said. "I'll make a brief confession, once in a while I'll do the future, but it's rare."

I nodded. "You mean if I tell Grandma Mazur that she'll meet the love of her life in two weeks it either will or it won't happen?"

"Exactly. If it does happen, you get the credit and she'll extol you to the heavens. And if it doesn't happen, she'll say you're full of bull. Either way, she's just made you responsible for her future and that's a lot of responsibility you don't need."

Something to think about.

"So you mean if I plant the idea that she'll meet the next love of her life at 7:00 on a Sunday in Hamilton Township and she believes me, it'll happen?"

"Not exactly. But if she wants it, she might do things she wouldn't have done otherwise. You know, get a new haircut, go to a different part of town, walk with her head held high. If she really doesn't want it, she might stay home all week in her bathrobe and not even check her mail. And whether you intended to or not, by giving her a prognostication, you have definitely influenced her actions."

That was a lot of power I had, literally at my hands. Or was the power in my hands?

A/N: thanks for reading and reviewing … besos, Alf.


	7. Chapter 7

Nothing But Time On My hands

Disclaimer: No money has passed my palm, nor do I expect it for this little endeavor.

Thanks for all the support you've given, it wouldn't get done without you: Bluz, Deb and Deb, Kate, Jaime, Luisa and Melody

**Nothing But Time On My Hands  
Chapter 7  
By Alfonsina**

One of my new files was Phil Bridge. He was a domestic violence case, third offense with the same woman. I tried for three days to bring him in on my own. It seemed I could never catch up with him.

Tank periodically reviewed my case files to see how dangerous my skips were. He also liked to see if I got a lot of frequent fliers. The regulars fliers were usually easier for me to pick up because we developed some kind of a rapport. Tank recognized Phil's name as a frequent flier, but not the good kind, so he assigned Woody to be my backup. Usually I worked with Ranger, but he was at a new client meeting. When Ranger wasn't available, the guys took turn in a rotation. Actually for me it was kind of nice because I learned something new from each of the Merry Men.

In twenty minutes, Woody went from being teacher to babysitter. Not that I minded having a babysitter and Woody was a good one, but it seemed that I was getting put in Woody's path more and more often.

We took Woody's SUV to the address listed in Phil's file. We decided to handle it with a little extra caution. I'd knock on the door and pretend to be looking for my lost dog. Woody would be ready to knock Phil out and do the heavy lifting, if it came to that.

We got to the door and I was about to knock when Woody took me aside and asked if I was dressed. Huh? Oh yeah, firearm. Crap. It felt like it was a Monday. At least I had my vest on under my shirt; the guys seldom let me leave the office without it on anymore. I shook my head no.

He reached down and pulled a snub nose Smith and Wesson .38 revolver from his ankle holster. He checked to make sure it was loaded and shoved it into the back of my pants. Even though it wasn't the first time this had happened to me, it always made me blush.

I went to the door and Woody stayed behind me out of sight. I knocked and waited. I forgot my cover story and yelled at him through the door that he was in violation of his bond agreement, smooth don't ya think? He yelled back that he wasn't going to come with me.

Ever observant, I noticed movement by the living room window. Phil was standing in front of it, trying to look menacing. Well as menacing a guy who looked like Sneezy from the Seven Dwarves could ever possibly look. I waved over to Woody who waved to Phil. Phil took a good look at Woody and realized Woody had a solid 100 pounds on him and had more than twice the muscle mass.

Phil opened the door and I thought he was going to come out peacefully. That was when he made a run for it. I chased Phil and Woody ran after both of us. I caught him around the middle and wound up pantsing him on the street. I guess it was kind of hard to run with the crotch of his pants was located down around his knees. He was like most skips, he made a valiant effort to get away.

Ultimately I couldn't keep up because I tripped over my own shoe laces. Tying my shoes was something else to go on my takedown checklist.

Woody kept running, caught him, got him cuffed, pulled up his pants and stuffed him into the vehicle. Thank God Woody could laugh and run at the same time.

Probably Woody and I were going to have the physical fitness conversation that Ranger so loved to have with me. I couldn't wait. Maybe I should buy some new shoes with Velcro fasteners.

xx

There was a long wait at the station to get Phil booked. After it was over, Woody decided he wanted to call it an afternoon and that it was time to continue today's lesson. I didn't really want to hear at the office, either office, that I was so desperate for a man, any man, that I was willing to pants my own FTAs to get a little action; so I agreed.

He made a phone call as we continued to drive.

"Yo," he said into the mouthpiece.

Pause.

"Yeah. Tonight'd be good," he said. Another pause. "The usual?" Pause. "Cool. See you there in half an hour. Later man."

Well that was illuminating.

We pulled into a little hole in the wall called the 'Wrong Number'. The owner seemed to have a great time answering the phone Wrong Number all day; it must've cut down on the number of telemarketers. Probably cut down on the number of wives calling looking for their husbands.

Woody seemed to know the place and aimed me towards a booth in the back. He stopped at the bar, got a pitcher of beer, one of water and several glasses before he sat next to me. It would have been considered to be a normal sized booth for pretty much anybody else. Sitting next to Woody it felt like the bench was meant for one and a half people, not two. In order for us to fit, Woody draped one arm over the back of the bench and I had to snuggle myself into his torso. Overall, I'd say that it wasn't a hardship and I was really kind of regretting the fact that he and I didn't have a special chemistry with each other.

Woody did the whole 'permission to share energy thing' with me and then he took my right hand and he showed me some differences between his hand and mine; the way the fingers were shaped, the hills and valleys, how deep the lines were and even how the fingers moved.

Even though I knew this was a professional reading, it felt incredibly intimate and personal. He seemed to know things about me that no one else seemed to ever pick up. He told me that I easily accepted others, but held onto their secrets hard and fast. Apparently I didn't have any secrets of my own, well not too many.

I'd never thought of myself as a creative thinker. He showed me the lines that indicated that not only did I like to think outside of the box; I didn't particularly like the box. I didn't initially believe him until we talked about some of my apprehensions and I guess he was right.

He showed me the same spots on his hands and I was able to see that he didn't initially trust people, but once he opened his heart and his mind, he had no barriers. He showed me how he was more structured in his thinking and how he would let his ego get in the way of the facts when he was making important decisions.

We were just about to get to the love line when Zero joined us. I was both relieved and disappointed when we were no longer alone. I liked Woody, but didn't really want to have all my former heartaches on display in a public place. And I didn't really want to have to answer any questions about it in front of witnesses.

I looked at Zero and counted the glasses and realized we were one high.

"Do we need to take a glass back to the bar?" I asked.

"Melanie will be here soon," Zero said. I gave him a puzzled look so he answered the unasked question, "My wife."

I didn't realize any of the guys were married. It appeared some of them could and did do long-term, committed relationships. Did Ranger know about this? Probably he did. Likely Ranger felt married to the business.

The three of us shot the bull for about ten minutes when a tall, leggy blonde walked over to our table. She looked like Veronica Lake. (/idealbb/files/vlake.jpg)

"Hey honey," Zero said to her after kissing her lightly. "Steph and Woody I'd like you to meet my wife, Melanie."

She smiled at us and said, "I hardly feel like we need to be introduced, Herman has told all kinds of stories about what happens at work." She looked directly at me and said, "I feel like I've known you for years."

Great. She knew all kinds of stuff about me and I knew bubkis about her, and I only knew a little more than that about her husband.

"Who's Herman?" I asked.

"That'd be me," Zero said. "I hated the name Herman when I was growing up. I swore to my parents I wasn't going to pass the name on to some poor unsuspecting kid. I am the first and only Herman Horowitz in known captivity. I'm making sure there isn't another one, so I hold the name count beyond me to be zero. Therefore, I see myself as Zero."

Whatever floats your boat Herman. He didn't look like a Herman; all the Hermans I knew were short, pudgy and looked like they never saw daylight. Zero looked like he could have been on the WWF complete with shaved head, big smile, aquiline nose, a couple of tasteful tattoos on his arms, a hint of a tan and green eyes. Then I had it, he looked like Yul Brynner from 'The King and I'. Ok, so maybe if I squinted he looked like the King of Siam. I kept waiting for him to say, "Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera." Why was I thinking of old time movie stars anyway? (/libertas/wp-content/brynneryul2.jpg )

It looked like the evening was going to be dinner and a movie. What? All the old American Movie Classics favorites were sitting around the table: Cary Grant to my left, Yul across from me and Veronica Lake at his side. Who did that make me? Why did I keep thinking of Phyllis Diller's hair? (/movie/2diller2.jpg ) Figures.

"Sweetie, do you remember when I asked if you ever wanted to get your palm read?" Zero asked his wife.

"Sure," she said looking a little confused.

"Well, tonight's the night," he said.

Woody and I just smiled. I was going to be able to see something that was beyond my own experience on someone who was a stranger to me. It would help me to determine if I really could see anything. I fingered my necklace nervously. It was almost show time, granted it was going to be a tame show, but nonetheless I was going to get a taste of what a 'real' reading was like. No more of this a little here and a little there.

"I'm the student; he's the teacher," I said.

"OK, Steph. Are you ready to begin?" Woody asked.

xx

Two hours and another pitcher of beer later and Woody had shown me the differences between Melanie's and Zero's palms. I was starting to recognize some stuff on my own and I was finding a rhythm to it, sort of. There was a lot to remember and to keep straight and I sure didn't think I'd be able to look at certain things without blushing.

After Zero and his wife left, my curiosity got the better of me. Big surprise.

"Hey Woody?" I asked.

He nodded.

"How come you seem to be able to drink beer here but you didn't do that well with the wine at my parents' house the other night?"

"It was a light beer and I only had one glass," he said. "You never noticed when I changed over to water, did you?"

Nope. I was too involved in what I'd been seeing and doing to pay attention to what he was drinking.

He picked up my right hand and asked quietly, "Since we haven't covered our love lines yet, do you want to do that now?"

The bar was pretty much empty, just a few people who were probably regulars and no one was paying any attention to us.

"Sure, want me to change sides of the table to do it?" I asked; we were still sitting next to each other and I was feeling a little squished.

He hadn't answered me yet when a vision dressed in a day glow orange track suit, also known as my grandmother, marched into the bar dragging Leroy O'Brien with her. Leroy was probably somewhere between 75 and death. It looked like right now he would have preferred the death option.

Just shoot me now.

"Grandma," I said trying to look casual, "I like the new outfit. What's going on?"

"Stephanie, I want you to see if you can tell if we're gonna be compatible for more than one date. Leroy here's only got about four of them Viagra pills and he wants to make sure he won't be wasting them on me when we get together," she said in a stage whisper.

"Mrs. Mazur, Stephanie hasn't advanced her skills to quite that level yet," Woody answered for me.

"Well what about you, Studly? You wanna read him for me? He's already taken the pill and if I'm not in the cards for him, he's planning to nail Frances Murphy in an hour," she said.

Where did Grandma meet these men anyway? Had she never heard of courting, romance or decorum? No she probably hadn't, at least not lately. I knew she had heard about glow in the dark condoms and disposable, vibrating cock-rings. She kept buying them and trying to send them home with me in bags of leftovers. At this point, it looked like she'd be using them sooner than I would.

I looked at Leroy with great sympathy in my eyes. We both looked like we wanted to melt into the floor. Sadly this wasn't a new experience for me.

"I don't read the future like that, Mrs. Mazur. It's really not fair to put him or any of us on the spot like this. Tonight the answer is going to have to be no," Woody said without backing down or trying to hide.

My hero.

"See? I told you I didn't want to take the pill an hour ago 'just in case'. Those things are expensive and I'm on a fixed income," Leroy said to my grandmother.

"I guess we should leave the lovebirds alone. Let's see if the Motel 6 down the street has an hourly rate to combine with a senior citizen discount," Grandma said. "After all, waste not, want not."

Ewww. Now I really wanted to melt into the floor.

"It'll all be OK, Steph. I won't say a word," Woody whispered to me.

Grandma started to drag Leroy back out of the bar when I decided to ask her, "Grandma? How'd you know I was here?"

"I called Rangeman and told the guy on the phone that you had a family emergency. They did some kind of mumbo jumbo and told me where you were. So, here I am. Why?"

"No reason, Grandma."

Now it looked like I was dating Woody to everybody at Rangeman, too. They could easily tell from the GPS how long the SUV had been parked in front of the bar. How long was it going to take to hit the Rangeman grapevine? Maybe ninety seconds after the phone call ended, probably less.

"Steph, as long as the whole world seems to know we're together, want to have dinner?"

"Sure. Where to?"

"We can stay here if you want. It's just bar food, but it's pretty good. I promise the only veggies they serve are the celery sticks when you get an order of Buffalo wings," he said with a smile.

So we stayed, laughed, talked and ate. It was comfortable and nice. Friendly even.

It was getting late when Woody looked me in the eye and said, "Steph, I need to ask you a big favor. I'll understand if you don't want to do it."

"What's up?"

"I want you to help me find my soulmate." I looked at him and said nothing. Before I could form a decent thought he said, "Oh and I need to practice my dating techniques."

xx

Pardon me?

"You've got to be kidding. I'm probably the last person you should look to for dating advice or to get you hooked up," I said.

"Yeah, but you know all kinds of people and you've got lots of friends. Any of them single?" he asked.

He was serious and he must have meant some of what he said when he was drunk. At least he wasn't asking me on a date.

"Most of the girls I know are already married or have been married and divorced at least once." I pointed to myself and said, "See exhibit A. What's bringing all of this on anyway?"

"It's been a long time since I've been in love or had any kind of a meaningful relationship. I suck at small talk and have a hard time talking to girls. Anyway, after spending time with you and even the time with your family has made me realize that I want that kind of relationship in my life. In order for me to have it, I'm gonna need some serious help."

"You do realize this is going to be like the blind leading the blind? Because I've never gone in pursuit of a girlfriend much less a soulmate. The relationships I've had, I've kind of fallen into, there wasn't a lot of dating or courting involved," I said. No shit, I had a spotted dating history at best. My dates seemed to always consist of pizza, beer and watching either a movie or a game on TV.

"It'll be fun. I might be able to get you out of helping my dad around the store on Saturday mornings," he said trying to tempt me.

"I'll think about it. You do know how it might look to other people, right? There will probably be talk." I knew for a fact how it would look. I knew what the talk would be about. I also knew I didn't want to volunteer to be the hot topic of conversation in the Burg. But the idea was tempting. I could help Woody with his 'dating skills' with no pressure or expectation while helping him find someone he might be able to love.

"Who cares what people will say? Come on. You know, we could do stuff like people might do on dates and we'll find out what I'm good at. Please?"

Did I look like the matchmaker from Fiddler on the Roof? Did I look Dr. Laura? It could be worse. I could look like Dr. Ruth Westheimer.

"Woody, how old are you?"

"Twenty nine," he said.

"When was your last serious, long-term relationship?"

"Five years ago, and part of that time I was on my Westpac cruise on board the USS Nimitz," he said.

And I thought I could go a long time between long term relationships. I really hoped we weren't going to have to ask for the intervention of St. Jude, patron saint of lost causes.

"I thought you were a Marine before this," I said, deciding to ignore the voice in my head. I couldn't understand how long he'd been alone. Five years was one serious dry spell.

"I was. A lot of times Marines get deployed or transported overseas on aircraft carriers. It's not a bad way to travel. Plus you pretty much always know where you're gonna sleep."

Alrighty then. "Let's back up. What happened? That is if you don't mind my asking."

"She got pregnant by somebody else while I was gone and had the baby four months after I got back," he said. "Even though we weren't married, we had a commitment. She saw herself as a Westpac widow. She thought she'd die if she went nine months without sex. She gave in to her hormones and loneliness; she picked up somebody fresh out of boot camp. I'd only been gone three months when she started to cheat."

At least he didn't catch her doing it on the dining room table.

What do you say to that? "I'm so sorry," I said.

"Yeah, well you've felt in the way my fingers move that I have trust issues, and now you know why," he said no longer looking at me.

I reached for his hand and started to play with the fingers. They did move stiffly and his hand never really did open all the way.

"Will you at least think about it?" he asked.

"I'll start asking around to see if anybody knows somebody who might be available, and you and I can hang out some working on your 'skills'."

"Cool."

"Hey Woody, I'm positive you haven't been living the life of a monk the last several years. I'm also willing to guess you've been out with at least a few women. Where have you been meeting them?" I asked hoping this might lead to either our success or answer why he'd failed.

"You know Lester and Brett both have reputations for picking up women, right?" he asked.

"I didn't know about Brett, but it seems to me that Lester is in his element in night clubs. Why?"

"Whenever I go out with them, I tend to get the 'left-overs'," he said looking down.

"You mean the ones who don't make the grade for either of them are thrown over to you?" That idea was just horrifying to me.

"Not quite, but kind of. I don't go looking for hook-ups, but for company. The guys break the ice for me and get me introduced. Sometimes they turn into hook-ups, sometimes more, but nothing lasts for long. I talk more easily to girls if I've had a couple of drinks," he said.

Yeah. I remembered the whole key incident from the other night. OK, so it was kind of flirty and fun, but it wasn't the real Woody. Was it?

"Go on," I said.

"Well, I become me again after I've sobered up," he said. I guessed he meant quiet. Woody rarely talked unless he knew somebody.

"And they think you're either a snob or not interested, right?"

"Yeah, that's about it. So now do you understand a little better?"

"We'll see what we can do, but no promises," I said.

"You really are the best Steph," he said. "Now we do need to get out of here, I'm on the early shift again tomorrow."

We drove back to the office in comfortable silence. This had the potential of being fun and it would be a pressure free way to hang out with a Merry Man for a while. Or else it was going to blow up in my face.

He parked the SUV in the garage and walked me over to my car.

"I had a great time today, Steph. Good night," he said and gave me a long hug and kissed me on the cheek in front of the cameras, God and everybody.

"Night Woody. Thanks for the lesson," I said as I got into my car.

As I drove I had a lot to think about, on a lot of levels. Who did I know that was single, available and didn't carry a lot of extra baggage? How do you 'teach' a guy to date? Worse still, how do you teach a Merry Man to date?

Oh boy.

xx

The next day I went to the bonds office and brought in doughnuts for the girls and a large Diet Coke for me.

"Morning," I said.

"She lied," Connie said looking at Lula.

"You bet your sweet ass she lied. She lied to both of us. We need to do something about that," Lula said.

Oh God. Hopefully this won't be too painful. Yeah right.

"What've I done this time?" I asked realizing I probably should have gotten bear claws or Danishes instead of just the doughnuts. Maybe a pound cake with chocolate sauce would've worked.

"You're dating Woody and you ain't had the decency to tell us about it yet," Lula said.

"There's nothing to tell. Because I'm not dating Woody," I said sweetly.

"You were seen with him at the Wrong Number all night last night," Connie said.

Shit. Grandma either started spreading the word early or someone I didn't recognize was working at the bar. Not good. Not good at all.

"Yeah, I was there with him. It doesn't mean we were on a date," I said.

"You get no files today until you give us details," Connie said.

"Yeah," Lula said.

"How many files are we talking about, Connie?" I asked.

"Two, and if you get them both in, you can cover your rent for six months," Connie told me.

The bank account was low and it would be nice to pad it just a little.

"Or you could replace that POS you been drivin' around and get yourself a real set of wheels," Lula said.

Tempting.

"Back to business," Lula said. "Connie and I say last night was a date."

"It wasn't a date," I said.

"Whose idea was it to go?" Lula asked.

"His."

"Who paid last night?" Connie asked.

"He did."

"Did you sit next to each other and hold hands?" she continued.

"Yes and sort of." God. It did look and sound like a date.

"What does that mean?" Lula asked. "How can you 'sort of' hold hands?"

I had gotten as far as saying, "Well when Zero and his wife joined us …" when someone came through the door. It was Woody, the man himself. Speak of the devil. Shit.

"Morning, Ladies. Connie, got any files for Rangeman?" he asked.

Connie silently picked up a stack of files and handed them to him. She looked like she was going to say something when Woody beat her to the punch.

He had walked behind my chair and put his hand on my shoulder. "So, you think about my proposition last night?" he asked me.

Wonderful.

"Uh huh," I said.

"And?" he asked.

"Can we talk about it later?" I asked. Like in private?

"Sure how about we talk about it Saturday? I'll take you to breakfast before we spend the day together," he said squeezing my shoulder.

"I was going to work at your dad's store Saturday; you've got the day off," I said.

"When my dad needs or wants a day off I pre-arrange it with Ranger. I cover the store. Besides, we need to talk about the plans I'm making," he said. He nodded at Connie and Lula and said, "Ladies. Talk to you later, Steph. I'll pick you up Saturday around 8:30." And with that he was gone.

Shit.

"Let's back up a little. You were out with Woody, Zero AND his wife?" Connie shrieked.

"In my book that's what they call double dating," Lula said narrowing her eyes at me.

"Not exactly," I said. This just didn't look good for me.

"How, not exactly?" Lula chimed in.

"Well see it's like this," I said as I explained how the whole palmistry thing had started and that Woody was my teacher.

"Girl, I'd let him teach me anything he wanted to," Lula said, "and I don't need any extra education, if you get my meaning."

That's way too much information, Lula, way too much.

"What kind of a proposition are we talking about?" Connie asked.

"Ooo, yeah, I kinda almost didn't hear that," Lula said. "Let's go back to that. I'm thinking with a man like that, a proposition would be about crotchless panties and high heels."

I turned beet red. I was looking forward to when I could leave for the day because this whole being double-teamed just wasn't working for me.

"Do you guys know any single women?" I asked.

"She's trying to change the subject again," Lula said.

"I am not." Yes I was. "Do you know anyone who's single and doesn't have a lot of baggage?"

"Let me think about it. Who's the guy you're looking for?" Connie asked.

"Woody," I said.

"You already gonna give that fine piece of ass the heave ho? Is he that bad in bed? No wonder you don't have that glow about you. Hell, you two haven't had time to get past the honeymoon stage yet," Lula said.

"I don't know how he is in bed because we haven't slept together." Not in the same room anyway. "And it's not about the honeymoon stage being over, it hasn't even begun because we're both just friends," I said.

"Right, Steph. We believe you. I'll think about it, but I do think the two of you would look good together," Connie said.

"You two'd make some pretty babies," Lula said. "They'd have some pretty blue eyes."

Great. Had they been talking to my mother and grandmother?

At that moment my phone sounded the Batman Ring tone so we all knew who it was. I answered, "Yo. … I'm at the bonds office. … I can meet you in fifteen." I disconnected the phone.

"Yeah, we know. You got to go meet Batman for some big something or other," Lula said.

Connie handed me the two files and said, "This isn't over."

Great.

"I'll check in with you tomorrow. See ya," I called as I headed out the door.

xx

I pulled into the parking garage at Rangeman and had just gotten out of my car when Caesar showed up.

It was obvious that something was going on and I was going to be the last one to find out whatever it was.

"Ranger's in quite the mood today. Know anything about it?" Caesar asked. Clearly Caesar knew something but wasn't going to give anything away.

"Could be anything," I said. Knowing my luck it could be at least fifteen different things at any given moment. "Can you give me a hint?" I asked.

"Walk with me," he said.

Even as a part time employee, Ranger made it clear that my gun and I were going to be friends. I was scheduled for an hour session this morning. He told me there would be only two excuses for not practicing: 1) hospitalization or 2) pregnancy and he would need proof of either to accept my excuses. Since I wasn't one or the other, I knew I was going to have to get it over with.

I was supposed to be heading for the range when I realized we were heading for the elevators. I said, "Looks like we aren't going to go to the range. Can you give me another hint?"

He just looked at me, hard. He opened the small conference room door.

At the table sat Grandma and her friend, Mrs. Smith. Ranger was standing behind them. He gave me an unreadable look when I stepped into the doorway.

"Grandma! What are you doing here?"

**A/N: thanks as always for reading and reviewing! Alf.**


	8. Chapter 8

Nothing But Time On My Hands

Disclaimer: No money, no fame, no fortune, no yet anyway

To those who are brave enough to Beta: Bluz, Deb and Deb, Kate, Jaime, Luisa and Melody, thank you

_He just looked at me, hard. He opened the small conference room door._

_At the table sat Grandma and her friend, Mrs. Smith. Ranger was standing behind them. He gave me an unreadable look when I stepped into the doorway._

"_Grandma! What are you doing here?"_

**Nothing But Time On My Hands  
Chapter 8  
By Alfonsina**

"Your father dropped them off in the cab on his way to hide from the family," he said with sarcasm in his voice. "They said they were waiting for you and your 'stud muffin' to help them find the right men."

"Grandma, you should know better than to come here. Besides, you shouldn't listen to dating advice from me," I said.

"Well, we don't really want advice from you, we want it from your new man. Where's that stud of yours so we can ask him?" Grandma said.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, trying to get them to their feet and headed toward the door.

"Your new stud, dear. Edna told me all about him," said Mrs. Smith.

"I don't have a new stud. I don't have any stud. The only studs I have are earrings," I said looking perplexed.

"No dear, you know the one. Cary Grant. He was at dinner the other night," Mrs. Smith said. "Edna couldn't say enough nice things about him."

Oh shit. Here we go, ready or not.

"Does everyone know that Cary Grant came to dinner the other night, Babe?" Ranger asked looking moderately tolerant. "Social calendar is getting pretty full."

"Woody. She means Woody," I said with a sigh.

"I want Cary to help me," Grandma said. "Things didn't do so well with Leroy the other night. Not only was he a dud in the sack but he made me split the cost of his Viagra pill even though it didn't work more than twice."

Can this get any worse? I wondered, desperately trying to get them out into the garage.

"His name isn't Cary, it's Woody," I said to anybody who would listen. "And he is working right now. Doing, I don't know, work things. Somewhere."

"When can Cary read our palms and help us?" Mrs. Smith asked.

Great, evidently Mrs. Smith was looking to get lucky too.

"Saturday. Saturday morning he'll be at his dad's shop."

"Will he give us a discount on some of them wax peckers?" Grandma asked.

"Babe?" Ranger said. The blank face looked even blanker than before, if that were at all possible.

"Candles. His dad's store sells some x-rated candles," I said with a sigh.

I got behind them and began to herd them out the door. "Come into the shop and you can ask him about helping you then. Now come on, I'll run you home."

"Babe, you're late for practice as it is. Caesar will escort these ladies home," Ranger said.

Caesar looked like he wanted hazardous duty pay to take my grandmother and her friend home; most likely he'd get it, too.

"It wouldn't take me that long and I'll do my firing practice as soon as I get back," I tried to bargain.

"No. You're going to do your hour now and then you're going to meet me on seven. Babe, we need to talk," he said shaking his head.

"It's not my fault, really."

"It never is," he said. "Now it's time for you to shoot some faces on those targets."

"Yes sir," I said with a forced smile.

xx

I went to the range to practice and was overseen by Silvio. Silvio was visiting from Miami doing some upgrades on the search software. He came about once a quarter to help me sharpen my computer skills. When he developed new software, he let me try it first to see if I could get it to crash and burn. Once it survived me as Beta, he would release the software to the other offices. Lately there'd been no big upgrades. This was just a regularly scheduled visit.

I liked Silvio a lot; he was unlike the other Merry Men. He put off the hard core 'married with children vibe'. I liked that vibe, it was great for my concentration and I got a lot accomplished. It didn't seem like there was ever a conflict of work versus hormones when we were together. He kind of reminded me of Rock Hudson (/2005/9-30/arts/books/Books-Hudson,Rock.jpg) in the old Doris Day movies, nice looking, approachable and full of fun – but not overtly sexual. I'd always had a crush on Rock Hudson, who cared if he was gay? He was pretty to look at and I enjoyed him in a non-hormonal way. Too bad I didn't share those feelings with more of the Merry Men.

I packed up my gear after I cleaned my weapon and headed to seven. It'd been a while since I'd been to see Ranger here. He'd been spending a lot of time in Miami with Julie; she had been doing well in school but lately had begun to rebel against everybody. Rachel thought it would be good if they spent a little time doing the 'father-daughter' bonding thing.

Ranger was sitting on the sofa reading through some reports when I let myself in to the apartment.

"Hey Ranger," I said brightly.

"Babe," he said patting the cushion on the sofa next to him.

This was either going to be a good thing or a bad thing. I deposited my stuff next to the coffee table and sat.

"I know you love your family," he began slowly looking me in the eyes.

Yeah. Most people love their families.

"We run a secure business. She can't just show up and have you predicting her next love connection. You shouldn't be using your time here to make a love connection either."

"I had no idea she'd come looking for me," I said. "And I am not dating Woody. How many times am I going to have to tell you that?"

"Does he know that? Woody's been acting pretty happy lately and you seem different somehow," he said flatly.

"Hey," I said. "You never did ask why Woody had dinner with my folks."

"Usually you have Morelli to those things," he said.

"Yeah and Morelli is gone, remember?" I returned. "Besides, you've been invited more than once. Usually you turn down the offer."

He looked at me.

"So Woody's taking Morelli's place?" he asked quietly.

"No. I'm not looking for a replacement Morelli. Right now, I'm not looking for anybody or anything beyond friendship. Besides, Woody was there to help kill the rumor mill."

He looked at me.

"You know the one that seems to know my every move and reports to my mother?"

"Is that how the grapevine sees it? Cary Grant is the boyfriend?"

"Believe me, I'd know if I was dating somebody." I wouldn't need to buy a new shower massager if I was.

Ranger smiled.

Crap, I just said that out loud.

"You already know Woody is going to be working with me on my palmistry skill, remember?"

He nodded.

"Anyway, it seems that there is more to this than I realized. We're going to probably be spending a lot of free time together until I pick it up. I don't want you or anybody else getting the wrong idea. OK?"

"Babe."

It could've meant that he thought Woody was using this as an excuse to get to know me in 'that way'. It could've meant that he believed me that this was all for the pursuit of broadening my horizons and potentially fattening my wallet. It could've meant he had no idea what else to say. Some days, like today, when I heard him say, "Babe," the meaning was dealer's choice.

We were both quiet for a minute, a long and painful minute. One hippopotamus, two hippopotamus, three hippopotamus … all the way to 62 hippopotamus or is it hippopotami?

"You up for a distraction job tonight? Sorry about the short notice," he said looking uncomfortable.

"What time and where?"

"I'll have someone pick you up at 10:00, a Mexican place called 'Margarita's Village'. You don't need to get too extreme in your look," he said.

"Sounds good," I said. "Can you tell me anything about him?"

"George Raferty likes the 'nice and approachable' type before he gets mean."

It would be a nice change. I preferred not to look like just another a piece of ass when I did a distraction. Unfortunately it seemed that it was easier to get the attention of the skip if things were too low cut, too short and too tight. This was going to require shopping and soon, because my closet consisted of either jeans and t-shirts or things that qualified for the 'too low, too tight, too short' description.

"Ranger, mind if I cut out so I can get something to wear?" I asked. "I don't have anything that qualifies as 'nice and approachable'."

"Not a problem, I'll let your boss know you're gone for the day," he said.

Then I realized that he said 'someone' would pick me up, sounded like he wasn't going to go. I was disappointed but didn't want him to know that.

xx

I found a forest green skirt, about knee length that had a long slit up the side to show off my thigh and a gauzy looking peasant top in a kind of a beige/cream color. It was shear enough to need a camisole underneath, good thing I saw one on sale that I wanted to own that was nice and lacy. The shirt said demure, but the lace that could be seen beneath it sent a slightly different message; that message was 'catch me if you can'.

I decided against pantyhose or thigh highs and used a tinted moisturizer on my legs. My hair was pulled back into a very loose French braid.

I knew that standing up I looked nice, wholesome even, but if I sat at the bar, I could cross my leg and kick it for maximum effect and lean over to give just a hint of cleavage. It should be enough to get his attention.

Right on time, there came a knock to the door.

I checked the peephole and saw Slick with Vince.

I opened the door and smiled, "Give me a second to grab my purse and we can roll."

"You look kind of tame tonight, Steph," Vince said uncomfortably.

"From what Ranger had told me, tame was OK. Preferred even. George Raferty was looking for 'nice' and 'approachable'. Don't I look nice?" I asked.

"Yeah, but usually you sex it up some. Can you make it any more alluring?" he asked. "You know, hike up the skirt or something?"

"Give me your opinion in a minute, OK?"

I walked over to the kitchen table and chose a chair that would face the two men, sat and crossed my legs. Then I unbuttoned my shirt one more button so that the top of the lace showed. I started to kick my leg back and forth ever so slowly, making sure that a lot of flesh showed.

"Wow. Looks really can be deceiving," Vince said with not a little awe in his voice.

"Gentlemen, some things are best left to the experts," I said with a smile.

"Oh yeah, I forgot," said Slick. "Woody wanted to make sure you wore these tonight. Said he'd explain it to you the next time he saw you."

Slick handed me a pair of amber earrings set in silver. I replaced the hoops I had on with the new studs and double-checked the look in the mirror. They were very pretty, a bit big and heavy, but nice all the same.

"Is that everything?" I asked.

They both nodded at me as I uncrossed my legs and got out of the chair.

xx

We pulled into the back of the parking lot of Margarita's Village. It was a small place with a big crowd. The marquee outside boasted: "Nineteen flavors of Margaritas and Daiquiris."

I was reviewing the file in the parking lot when Ranger pulled up next to us. I was in the back seat with the dome light on reading. I was sitting like I had been in my kitchen. Vince opened my window from the front of the car. Ranger looked at me.

"Are you ready to go get 'em tiger?" he asked.

"Almost. The guys don't think I've got the right look to pull this off tonight. What do you think?"

"Babe," he said. Finally he said, "Hal is already in the back. You want to go to Cal for your drink. The rest of us will be out here waiting for you."

OK.

I got out of the car and stretched a little.

"Forgetting something, Babe?" he asked.

I looked at him for a couple of seconds when I finally realized I didn't have the wire on yet.

"Wire?" I asked.

He nodded. With a slight smile he beckoned me to the BMW. I got into the front and sat next to him. He carefully untucked my shirt and camisole before he slowly slid his hands up my ribcage to attach the wire to the underside of my bra. I sat and continued to breathe, barely.

"Everything new tonight?" he asked.

"From the skin out," I said feeling a little brave. "I take it you approve?"

"Babe," he said as he moved in for the kiss. It was sweet and succulent and the kind of kiss that made everything else just fade away. As soon as I forgot where I was and what we were doing, he ended it. I guess he believed in the old adage, "always leave your audience wanting more" because I definitely did want more.

I got out of the car to do the re-tucking but knew for the right effect I'd need to sit down to make sure that enough of the lace would show. It took a couple of times to get it right.

"Can you give me an opinion before I go in?" I asked. I sat back in the seat and leaned over just a little bit. "Enough to get a man interested?"

"Babe," he growled.

My confidence boosted, I walked myself into the bar. It didn't take me long to find George Raferty sitting alone nursing a margarita. I looked over at Hal who appeared to be incredibly interested in what the bimbette next to him was saying. I stood a couple of people away from Raferty and said, "What's good tonight?"

Cal said, "They're all good. What do you like?"

"Tonight I want something strong but I don't want to taste all the liquor in it," I said sounding just a little sad.

"Peach daiquiri sound good?" Cal asked with a wink.

I nodded in agreement.

A Rangeman plant was seated next to the skip. When he got up from his seat I took the stool and immediately crossed my legs.

Cal and I both knew he wouldn't put anything in the drink other than some peaches, juice, a lot of ice and the all-important straw. The advantage of the daiquiri over a margarita was that it came with a straw. I could play x-rated games with it while still looking 'nice'.

I got my drink and went to dig for my wallet in my purse, when I heard George say, "Let me add that to my tab."

"I can't let a stranger buy me a drink," I said.

"If we introduce ourselves we won't be strangers any more," he said with a wink. "Then you can accept it."

"I'm Clare. What's your name?"

"George," he said.

"Thanks for so much for the drink," I said as I started to play with the straw. I made an effort to ever so slowly wrap my lips around the straw. I sucked it in and out of my mouth to the count of five. When I released the straw I licked my lips and smiled. My skills were still effective and had been noticed by Hal, Cal, and George.

"You're welcome," he said in a strangled voice.

I sat sipping, now stroking my fingers up and down the straw and looking around the bar.

Finally George said to me, "So what do you do for a living?"

"I work in an accounting office. I do all the clerical back up stuff. But it isn't what I really want to do," I said looking down.

"What do you really want to do?" he asked.

"It will sound silly to you," I said still looking down. "Nobody believes that I'll be able to do it."

"Try me," he said.

"I want to read palms. In fact I'm learning how right now, but my friends all think I'm nuts," I said.

"It doesn't sound nuts to me. We don't know each other, so why don't you try me and tell me what you see?" he asked.

Just what I'd been waiting for, yes!

"I'm not very good yet, so keep that in mind," I said with a smile and I picked up one of his hands.

This whole thing felt creepy and weird. He especially felt creepy and weird; duh, he's a skip – think about it.

I looked at his hand for a couple of minutes before saying anything. "You are very determined to get your own way in this life. You even change the rules so that you win, at least in your own mind."

"Anything else?" he asked.

"Yeah, there's all kinds of stuff that I can feel from the lines, but I can't see very well in here. It's better for me when I can see. Do you mind if we go someplace with better lighting?"

He nodded, got his wallet out and settled the bar tab.

We walked out of the bar together and he was immediately on the ground and cuffed by Slick and Vince; Ranger had gotten me to the side so I wouldn't get hurt.

"Nice job, Babe," he said. "And for the record, you do look very nice. I especially like the lace. Got more of it on anywhere?"

He was playing with my hair and my earlobes about to drive me nuts, so I decided to tease him, a little.

"Wouldn't you like to find out?" I asked. I was being cheeky and knew it.

"Babe."

He continued to play with my earlobes when he said to me, "These new too?"

I had no idea what he was talking about. "What?" I asked.

"The earrings. Not your usual style."

I put my hand up to my earlobe and felt the earring. I couldn't remember for the life of me what earrings I even had on. They didn't feel familiar so I actually took one out, looked at it and put it back in.

"Borrowed," I said, "from Woody."

"Woody buying you jewelry now?" Clearly Ranger was not amused.

"One of the guys handed them to me and said that Woody wanted me to wear them tonight. Something about him explaining it later. They were prettier than the ones I had planned to wear and so I wore them. I'm going to give them back to him the next time I see him. No big deal." And to me it was no big deal.

Earrings are just earrings, you know? Kind of like a cigar is just a cigar sometimes. Besides it wasn't like I was planning on keeping them.

"Babe," he said. Somehow I don't think I made him feel any better.

xx

Slick and Vince took Raferty in for booking and Ranger took me home. It was a quiet ride, but then again, this was Ranger. I'd heard that in India a lot of yogis felt that you only got so many breaths to last your entire lifetime and so practiced deep breathing to extend the length of their lives. I thought Ranger probably believed that too, but he conserved his words, not his breath, in order to extend his life. At this rate, I'd be dead by 45 and he'd live to 138.

I also knew that Ranger hadn't made any moves of any kind since Morelli had been gone. It initially puzzled me. He'd commented that my bed wouldn't be empty for long if Morelli ever left. Maybe I had been horrible that night and he'd never said anything. Maybe he'd moved on without me. Maybe I was no longer attractive to him. Maybe it just didn't matter to him anymore. Regardless of the reason, I knew that I shouldn't get myself worked up into any kind of a state or I'd be doing a run on the grocery for either some chocolate or some ice cream before the night was over.

_A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing. More fodder for the rumor mill next time, stay tuned! Besos, Alf._


	9. Chapter 9

Nothing But Time On My Hands

Disclaimer: Not even monopoly money is crossing my palm in this endeavor, perhaps next time.

Thanks as always to those who are willing to beta for me: Bluz, Deb and Deb, Jaime, Katie, Luisa, Melody and Ruth. Still hoping this is in alpha order.

**Nothing But Time On My Hands  
Chapter 9  
By Alfonsina**

Saturday morning I was more than a little nervous about spending the day with Woody. I mean we got along well and lately we've spent a lot of time together, but this was all day.

Usually we were together for no more than the four-hour burst and then parted ways. I would pretend not to be bored on a stakeout and he would pretend not to notice just how bored I was. It was a good system and it worked.

I had decided to go with the French braid look again, and the blouse with camisole from the other night. I finished the outfit with a well-worn pair of jeans and flats. There was nothing overly formal about the store and I figured that this was casual enough to fit in, but dressy enough to look nice. Sometimes a little lace underneath my clothes added to my self-confidence, and I had a feeling I was going to need a little help to get through the day.

When Woody picked me up, he looked very un-Woody like. It was the first time I'd seen him in 'civies'. Normally he was in Rangeman black or something very similar style wise.

This morning he had on a pair of jeans that had once been blue but were so pale that they were now off-white and so well worn that the fabric was almost nonexistent in places like his rear and his knees. When he turned around I could see bright red boxers periodically peeking through as his rear end moved, it was kind of 'now you see me, now you don't'. It was actually mesmerizing, I could probably watch that show all day long..

The rest of the get up was standard for a regular guy. The long sleeved t-shirt was, of course, skintight and a brilliant royal purple. The shoes were Birkenstock sandals. Around his neck he had a leather strap with a pouch attached; I had no idea what to make of the pouch.

"Looking good this morning, Steph," he said. "Ready for breakfast?" He was chipper and he was happy. Crap. When he wasn't hung-over, he was a morning person; this could make breakfast a very long and difficult experience.

"Sure," I said, "wherever you want to go." Then I remembered Woody at the Good Earth and began to pray that breakfast wasn't going to consist of turkey bacon, faux-eggs, and soymilk on the side.

"Real food, I promise," he said.

I was thinking out loud again or my face had given me away? It didn't matter either way. I was relieved to hear the food would be 'real'. Hopefully it meant lots of blueberry syrup on waffles and real butter.

We pulled into a little place called the Ollie's Omelets. It was small, quaint and not very crowded. We were walked to a back table. It dawned on me that she hadn't brought any menus and there were none on the table.

"Trust me?" he asked.

"You're the boss today. Sure," I said with a smile but crossing my fingers under the table.

"Mary, the usual for two and a large pot of coffee," he said.

"Do you always order the 'usual'? What's gonna happen if you ever go someplace they don't know you?" I asked.

"I don't know. I tend to break a place in, find what I like and it becomes my 'usual' there. I'm pretty boring that way," he said.

Woody pulled out a slender notebook and pen from his back pocket. He opened it to a clean page and said, "Have you been thinking about what to do on dates?"

"No, not really. I told you I'm not great at relationships. I thought we'd kind of play things by ear."

The words had just come out of my mouth when the waitress came by with the carafe of coffee.

"Congratulations, you two," she said placing the mugs in front of us.

Oh God.

"Congratulations?" I asked. It was still early for me and I hadn't had my caffeine fix yet.

"We've been wondering when he was going to find a special someone," she said. "Looks like he finally has. Good for you, hon, he's a keeper."

I felt like I'd become a fish out of water as I looked at Woody. My mouth started to open and close but no sound came out. How was it that I got to be fodder for gossip even if I wasn't on my home turf?

"I thought we were going to hang out some, maybe go a couple of places together," I said. "Work on your _skills_ so you could find a soulmate. Maybe you could pretend I was a girl and you could talk to me, practice that way."

I was panicking. Was he going to try to develop skills that exceeded friendship? I wasn't up for public displays of affection because there wasn't supposed to be affection. Plus I wasn't open to having 'sleep-overs' of any kind; that idea was way more than I bargained for. What exactly did he have in mind anyway?

"I was thinking things like picnics, movies, hiking, maybe even trips to the zoo or a museum," he said. "I'm not planning any weekend escapes, promise."

OK, so thinking out loud wasn't always a problem for me.

The food arrived and it looked like there was going to be enough to feed an army. We each had: huge omelets filled with cheese, mushrooms and ham, hash brown potatoes, English muffins, and a side of blueberry pancakes.

"Expecting company, Woody?" I asked. I can eat a lot, but this was excessive even for me.

"Nope, standard breakfast."

"Got a fridge at the store? I'm gonna need a doggie bag," I said.

At least now I didn't have to worry about what we were going to do for lunch.

Woody forgot about writing the dating list and ate like he hadn't seen food in days. It reminded me of the way teenaged boys eat when they are in a growth spurt. If I tried to keep up, I'd be a growing girl, but it would be out and not up.

xx

We arrived at Fairy Godmother's Closet about ten minutes before it was scheduled to open. Woody did what I could only assume was the opening routine: turn off the alarm, turn on the lights, open the safe in the back, get money for the register and finally turn on the stereo. All in all, it was pretty standard stuff. Then he did some kind of odd things. He took a tall, white candle from a box in the back and a stick of incense and a bottle of oil and placed them over by the register. He oiled the candle, lit both the candle and the incense, and closed his eyes for a couple of seconds. When he opened his eyes, he smiled but said nothing about it to me.

Well that was different.

He traded me my doggie bag for a dusting cloth and a bottle of spray and had me dust the shelves like before. Not exciting and no conversation, but it was better than watching the Saturday morning cartoons, I guess.

I was about half way through one side of the first wall when he finally spoke.

"There is a something coming up in several weeks and it's pretty important to me," he said.

I stopped what I was doing so I could pay attention. It looked like it was serious stuff so I decided to stay quiet. I looked at him and nodded indicating that he should go on.

"It's a festival of sorts that's once a year," he said. "Since I've been in Trenton, I've always attended alone and just for the daytime stuff. This year I really want someone to go with me, and I wasn't sure how long we might hang out. If we haven't found someone for me to date, will you come?"

"Sure. I assume it's on a weekend. Are you sure you'll be off for it?" I asked. I usually didn't have to worry. I worked Monday, Wednesday and alternating Fridays for Ranger and the rest of the time I worked for Vinnie.

I couldn't see why he would get so anxious about it. It was several weeks away, surely we'd find a nice girl for Woody to date by then, even if she wasn't his soulmate.

"I go every year; Ranger knows about it. It's been on the schedule for months," he said.

"Just tell me where, when and the dress code and I'll go," I said. "Do you mind telling me about it?"

"Well it's going to be the first Saturday in May. I guess you could call it a May Day celebration except this one runs from day through evening. There'll be a bonfire when the sun goes down," he said. "Did you ever do anything for May Day when you were a kid?"

"The only May Day things we did when I was a kid was to put flowers on the doors of neighbors. Our Lady of Perpetual Responsibility, Guilt and Grief used to have a May Pole dance for the younger girls," I said. "I'm sure they still do something."

"It'll be something like that, but there will be more stuff going on in the daytime. They'll have a May Pole, too. Other than that, there are lots of local artists and crafters, face painting for kids, some booths to buy food, and even some tables offering the standard psychic services."

"What are those?" I asked.

"Well, you do one now, palmistry. There's also Tarot, the I Ching, tealeaves, angel readings. You know, just pretty standard stuff. In the past when I've gone, I've usually read palms for a couple of hours," he said.

"Do you have to pay for these services?"

"I usually don't. At this fair everyone usually knows everyone else, so there is a lot of trading that goes on. I read someone's palm or their aura and they read my cards, no big deal."

"Am I good enough?"

"You will be. Hey, I forgot to give you heads up, but some of the guys are going to be coming by later so you can start to look at their palms."

Sounded good to me. I picked my rag back up and was getting ready to dust the next set of shelves when I heard the bell over the door tinkle, in walked Grandma Mazur and Louie Berkowitz.

"We're looking for Cary Grant," Louie Berkowitz said.

"There is no Cary Grant here," Woody said. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"Edna, you said Cary Grant worked here. The guy working the counter doesn't know him," Louie said.

"That's him. That's Cary Grant," Grandma said.

Let the games begin.

"That's not Cary Grant, Grandma," I said. "You remember my friend Woody, right?"

Woody walked from behind the counter and whispered into my ear, "Forget to tell me something?"

"Kind of. Grandma and her friends all think you look like Cary Grant."

He looked at me puzzled.

"To look like Cary Grant is a big compliment in their book," I said into his ear.

"Steph, Cary Grant is dead and has been forever," Woody hissed at me.

"Well, they remember him from when he was alive, he was a sex symbol then." I didn't think he made for sexy worm food. "Grandma and her friend showed up at Rangeman the other day wanting your services," I said.

"Shit," he said quietly. "Paybacks can be a bitch, Stephanie."

"Grandma?" I asked. "What can we do for you and Mr. Berkowitz?"

"Louie here has volunteered to have his palms read by Studly. He wants me to have mine read too. We want to listen together in case we forget something important," Grandma said. "We want to see if we are compatible."

"Steph, do you want to give it a try?" Woody asked.

"Will you help me if I get stuck?" I asked.

"I can do that," he said.

We went to a small table at the back of the store that was curtained off for privacy. For the moment, Woody kept the curtains open so he could keep an eye on the store. I started with Grandma and found the obvious long lifeline, even temper and the fact that she thought she hid her emotions, but in actuality she couldn't. Oh yeah and Grandma couldn't keep a secret, hers or anybody else's. No kidding.

I couldn't see anything about her love line or her 'desires' as she was calling them. When it was time to read Louie's I had very little luck. Woody took over and read Louie's hand and tried to show me some things. Just as Louie's hand was getting interesting, someone came into the shop. For privacy, Woody pulled the curtain.

"Steph, can you get that? I'll be right out if you need me," he said.

"Sure."

I went to the front of the store and spotted a very plainly dressed woman with an artist's portfolio.

"Welcome to Fairy Godmother's Closet," I began.

She asked, "Hi. I've been meaning to come in for a long time. I feel drawn here. But today is the only time it's felt right to come in. Is the owner here?"

"I'm sorry, he's not here today. I can get his son if you'd like. Maybe he can help you?"

"I keep feeling that I need to leave sample of my work," she said handing over a business card and a hand rendered drawing on greeting card stock. "I think my art would be a good fit in this store."

Before I could say anything else, she left.

"Everything OK out there?" Woody called.

"Just fine. Somebody dropped a sample off for your dad," I said as I walked back to the consultation area.

I joined the group and heard that Louie was someone who held back on everything: trust, money and affection.

"Does that mean he can hold back on his orgasm, too?" Grandma asked.

I noticed Louie looking at the ground. Seemed that Louie already knew the answer and wasn't sure he wanted to have it confirmed.

Woody shook his head and said that things people do emotionally and mentally don't always coincide with what happens physically. Who knew Woody was the master of tact?

"See, told ya it wasn't you," Louie said to Grandma.

"It was worth a shot," Grandma said. "Louie and I are gonna get out of here and see if we can find some 'stiff stuff' at the Treasure Pleasure to use after the Bingo game next Tuesday. Louie has promised to take extra vitamin E to see if that helps."

Oh God. I looked at the ground and then at Woody.

"See you later Mrs. Mazur, Mr. Berkowitz," Woody said as he ushered them out the door. "Where does she get them?" he asked. "Has she always been like this?"

"She was a wonderful grandmother when I was growing up. She didn't go wild until after my grandfather died. It's like she let go of all of her inhibitions and then told us all about losing them," I said. "I never need to have kids, I've got Grandma."

"Well, don't let your inhibitions control your life. Sometimes it's good to let your hair down," Woody said.

True.

"How many more men does your grandmother know?" he asked.

"I have no idea. It's going to make my life interesting until we get her a regular 'honey' as she calls them," I said. "Preferably one who can still drive and lives in his own home."

xx

A three or four hours later and the store was dusted, neatened and about as good as I was going to get it.

Woody called the Good Earth and ordered lunch, two of the 'usuals'. I didn't think I was going to ever need to eat again, but by the time he went to pick it up, my appetite had returned.

Woody was walking back through the door when he said, "Hey Steph, I'm gonna need to get you turned on for some fun stuff this afternoon. It won't take me long, you're almost there already."

To Woody's credit, his arms were full and he hadn't been looking around when he started to talk. Sometimes Woody was more like me than I wanted to think; which explains why Woody didn't notice that Tank and Lula were in the store.

"See I told ya," Lula said to Tank in a stage whisper.

"You two kids want to be alone?" Tank asked winking at Woody. "We can leave at any time."

Fudge.

"Hey Tank, Lula," Woody said. "Steph, anything happen while I was gone?"

He had left the building as 'Woody', friend and Rangeman. He'd returned from his errand as 'Oblivious Boy' also known as Woodrow Walker. He obviously didn't know what he'd just said or how it sounded. How the hell was I going to live that down?

"Tank and Lula are here," I said. I took him by the elbow and said directly into his ear, "What exactly are you talking about 'turning me on' and that I'm 'almost there already'? Because I'm not liking how this is sounding."

"Sorry about that," he said in a plain speaking voice that carried through the entire store, just in case some one else was there. "By 'turning on' I meant I want to get your grounded and centered so that things you see and possibly hear or feel will be accurate. It isn't something I've done with you before because you were learning the fundamentals. You 'turn on' before you work to increase your accuracy."

I looked at Lula and thought, 'See, told ya so.' Instead I said nothing, not a peep, not a single word.

English is a wonderful language. I now knew three meanings to the phrase 'turned on'. In the 60s it was part of the drug culture. It had a definite sexual connotation that I understood all too well. Now it had one for my palmistry, too. Probably there were more meanings, probably I didn't want to know what those meanings were.

Lula had been wandering the items on the shelves until she reached the candle section. Most of the candles were pretty non-descript and came in some pretty colors, a few in multiple colors. Some of them had interesting shapes: pyramids, squares, oblong, stars. And then there were the ones that came out of very specific molds. I had blushed when I dusted the ones shaped like breasts and vaginas. I bit my lip when I dusted the last set, the phallic shaped candles. If it wasn't so embarrassing, it would have been funny.

"Sugar, did you see this?" Lula asked Tank. She had a royal-blue, erect, wax phallus in her hand.

"Gives a new meaning to 'blue balls' doesn't it?" Tank said.

Each color was a specific size, must have been a reason for it but I didn't really want to know what it was. By this time, Woody had joined Lula and Tank looking at the candles. I didn't join them. I'd seen it all when I'd dusted earlier.

She commented on the size, shape, color and girth of all of them until she got to the bright green one.

"This here green one, reminds me of someone," she started to say.

The green one was huge. It was bigger than anything I'd ever experienced in an up close and personal anyway. It was so large it looked like it would be a painful experience, if it were real.

I couldn't help it, I was embarrassed, but my mouth overrode my common sense, "You mean the one that must have been based on a mold of the Jolly Green Giant?"

Silence. Well I thought it was funny.

"That's not it," Lula said looking at Tank. "It's almost as big as yours is Sugar."

I should probably just die now and get it over with. Lula had more in common with Grandma Mazur than I ever would have guessed. I was getting too much information from too many places about too many people.

"What do people do with these other than the obvious?" she asked Woody.

When was the hole in the ground going to open up and swallow me? Please, let it be soon.

"Besides light them? There's all kinds of magick people can use them for, or they can just put them on the shelves to embarrass visitors," he said.

Thank God he didn't get any more involved in his explanation. I didn't really want to know what Lula had in mind and I was starting to be afraid of what Woody might come up with on his own.

"I should probably buy me a box of these to remind me of you," she said to Tank, "for when you have to go out of town."

Woody looked at her and said, "They're fifteen dollars each, are you sure you want to buy twenty of them right now?"

Tank must have felt flattered because he indicated he was going to pay for two boxes of them.

"We only have five in stock right now. I'll mold some for you and drop them to you at work," Woody said to Tank.

"Nah, drop them off at the bonds office when they are ready," Tank said.

Woody wrote an order and told Tank he could pay when the candles were delivered.

When they finally left, Woody had me sit at the little consultation table. "I didn't realize you'd embarrass so easily," he said. "It's actually kind of a nice change. Thing is, a lot of the people who shop in this store are very open about every aspect of their lives including sex. They assume everyone else is too. I don't embarrass when other people want or need to talk about the details of their lives. I just make it a point not to give up the details of the private side of my life."

Good to know.

Because Lula and Tank had been in the store when he got back, we didn't eat right away. Earlier in the day I had been convinced I'd probably never need to eat again, but as soon as the bag was opened my mouth began to water and the appetite was back. The food was no longer hot, but it was warm enough to still be excellent.

After we ate, I did the general tidy, since that seemed to be my job at the store. Woody got behind me and ushered me back to my chair at the table. I had no idea what he was up to, but I was willing to become water and let the experience take me anywhere it wanted to.

"Now, I want for you to sit quietly for just a minute with your eyes closed. I want you to put your hands into mine and just let the energy flow," he said. "Feel how the current of energy is flowing from your body into to mine and down into the earth. You should also feel a return of the energy from the earth to me and finally back to you. This will help to add your intuition into your readings."

I closed my eyes and rested my hands in his. It felt nice, calm and gentle.

"How do you feel now?" he asked after a couple of minutes.

"OK I guess," I said.

"Not good enough then. Steph, I want to put my forehead against yours see if that makes the connection stronger, better. Close your eyes."

He did and everything felt like it got amplified and quickly. I felt more at peace than I could ever remember.

"And now?" he asked after about another minute.

"Peaceful but very alert. There's a kind of buzzy feeling behind my ears that I don't remember ever feeling before," I said as I opened my eyes.

"You are now officially turned on," he said.

The words hadn't even gotten out of his mouth when someone else entered the store. It was Brett.

"Feeling turned on, Steph?" he asked with a wink. "Maybe I can help you with that?"

A/N: Turning on with a couple of Merry Men wouldn't be so bad, would it?

Thanks for reading and reviewing. I promise Ranger will have a big spot in the next installment. Besos, Alf.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: No money has been exchanged to make this effort possible.

Thanks as always to the ever tolerant betas: Bluz, Deb and Deb, Jaime, Katie, Luisa, Melody and Ruth. Still hoping this is in alpha order.

"_Feeling turned on, Steph?" Brett asked with a wink. "Maybe I can help you with that?"_

**Nothing But Time On My Hands  
Chapter 10  
By Alfonsina**

"Fat chance," I said.

"Saving it all for Woodrow here? If you tell me, it could be a secret just between the three of us," he continued.

"No. You don't get it and I don't to explain it to you," I said.

Brett was acting like a mini-Lester. However, if I told him that, he would take the Lester comparison as a compliment and try to disprove the mini part to me in a way I wasn't willing to think about.

"Ah, Steph," Woody said. "You kind of have to be nice to him. He's your 1:00 appointment."

"I don't have any appointments," I said. "You said a couple of the guys were going to drop in. You didn't say anything about me having appointments.

"Well actually you do. I just didn't want you to freak out about it before it happened."

Lovely.

He walked behind me and moved his hand up and down my back. Then he said, "Your energy is off now, damn it. I should've told you about Brett. Now I'm going to have to get you rebalanced."

I didn't think I was up for having my hands held or the whole forehead thing in front of Brett, it just felt weird to do it in front of someone. Woody walked me to a display of baskets full of loose rocks.

"We're going to balance you this way instead," he said answering the unasked question.

He stood very closely behind me and put his right hand over mine and placed his left hand on my hip. He said, "You've heard the old phrase 'seeing is believing'?"

I nodded.

"Well the rest of the phrase is 'but feeling is the truth'. Now I want you to run your hand a couple of inches above each of the baskets. When you feel something drawing you to it, let me know and we'll stop there."

I did as he said and my hand was literally magnetized to a basket full of tumbled purple stones. I looked up at him and he said, "Very good, Grasshopper. Now let's see which stone wants to belong to you."

We did the same thing again and my hand felt attracted to four of the loose stones.

"Now, which one 'feels' the best," he said.

"We ain't got all day here," Brett called out.

"Keep your shirt on. You disrupted her chi and I've got to get it back, asshole," Woody yelled back.

I picked one that was large, smooth, flat and a very dark purple.

"Do you want to see if you need any others?" Woody asked.

I nodded and we did repeated the procedure. This time it stopped over a pink stone. I selected three stones, but couldn't decide between two of them. Woody made the final determination for me.

"Any more?"

I ran my hand over all the baskets and felt nothing. I shook my head.

"OK, now you need to put them in your pockets unless you want to wear one of these," he said indicating the leather pouch that was around his neck.

"These pants have no pockets," I said to him. "So I guess I should buy one of those pouch thingies."

He spoke directly into my ear, "Are you wearing a bra right now?"

"What kind of a question is that?" I hissed.

"A realistic one. The best place to put these stones is near your heart chakra and they work better if they are placed directly on your skin. I didn't want to embarrass you in front of Brett. I'll turn around and keep Brett distracted while you stick the stones in your bra. Trust me, you'll feel better after you do."

"You sure about this?" I asked.

"Positive."

I turned around and installed the stones into the cups of my bra. I met Brett at the consultation table. Woody was far enough away that I did the reading pretty much on my own. He hung around in the background, kind of like training-wheels on a kid's bike. Things went pretty well until I got to his love line, it was a mess.

"Woody, I don't understand what this means. Can you explain it to me?" I asked.

Woody came over, looked at Brett's palm and said, "Man, you never change do you?"

Brett looked at him, blank face in place.

What?

"It looks like it always has, Steph, and I've read his palm several times over the last couple of years. See these hash marks and all these lines that cross here and here?" he asked pointing some things out to me.

"Yeah, what does it mean?"

"It means that our boy here can't keep his fly zipped and has at least three women in rotation at any given time," he said.

Brett nodded, smiling. When Brett smiled he looked very boy-next-door complete with deep dimples and amazing smile. He resembled a ripped version of Kurt Russell from the old movie 'Big Trouble in Little China' (/images/Movies/wpe65.jpg). No wonder he was able to talk so many women out of their panties and more. If I didn't know what Brett could be like, he could probably melt mine off, too. I'd become just another notch on his gun belt; good thing I knew him.

"Man, it doesn't look good for you in the long run. You know that?" Woody asked Brett.

"Yeah, but I'm having fun now. You don't see any kids in my future do you?" Brett asked holding out his left hand.

Woody had taught me that the right hand is as you are now, and the left is as you will be if you don't make any major changes.

"Actually, I don't know how to read the left palm. Woody's only letting me read the right one. Woody?"

Woody picked up the left palm, looked at it and said, "Do you want to know how many or when they're gonna be born?"

Brett said, "Shit."

"Exactly. You need to get a vasectomy. Either that or date women who've had their tubes tied, unless you want to pick one woman and get faithful. If you don't, you won't have any money to live on. Looking at this you're gonna be in the poor house supporting a bunch of kids and their mommas."

Wow.

"I've heard enough. Thanks for the reading Steph. See you at the office, Woody," Brett said walking out of the store like his pants had just been set on fire.

"Did you really see all that?" I asked.

"No. I looked to see that his pattern was going to remain the same. I've also known him for years and know he plays it fast and loose. He doesn't like condoms and won't use them unless the woman insists. If he doesn't get it together soon, that prediction will come true whether or not someone sees it in his palms, cards, or tealeaves. It's not ethical, but I wanted to shake him up. By the way, how are you feeling now?" he asked.

"A lot better. What were those stones for anyway?"

"Well the purple one you chose was amethyst. For some people, it helps them get in touch with their personal power. The pink was rose quartz, usually it is used for unconditional love."

"You want me to love Brett? Who's supposed to be the matchmaker here anyway?"

"Not love like romance and all that, more like love the humanity in him. Despite how it seems, there is almost always something you can find to love in everybody."

With some of my family members, I was going to do some serious looking to find something to love.

"Will I have to wear the stones all the time? They aren't gonna work with some of my distraction outfits."

"Maybe not, but we can work on that, too. Do you remember the earrings I had the guys give you to wear the other night?"

"I need to get those out of my purse for you, sorry about that," I said.

"They're yours. I just didn't want the guys to start getting the wrong idea," he said, "about me giving you presents. I think Ranger, for one, would have a definite problem with me giving you jewelry as a present."

"I can't accept them. I'm sure they cost way too much." I didn't want to be beholden to Woody; Ranger wasn't the only reason I wanted to return them, I hated feeling like I was in anyone's debt.

"Steph, you need to wear a certain amount of amber, especially on distractions. Just between us, you could consider them a gift that I forgot to get you for your last birthday."

"What's the big deal with amber?" I asked still trying to figure out how to give the earrings back without hurting his feelings.

"Amber is used by some people for protection. Not everybody uses it and not everyone needs it. I knew it was something you needed, there was something missing in your overall vibration," he said simply.

"How did you know I needed it?"

"Cells talk to cells. We've spent enough time together touching in one way or another that now I have a very strong connection to you. Because of that connection, I can pick things out that will work energetically for you. There are some people I've got a very strong connection with and I can literally feel them across long distances," he said. "I have that kind of a connection with you."

"Wow."

"If you choose to hone it, you've already got that same ability; it's written in your hands. No one has taught you how to use it or any of your other gifts," he said.

"So if you 'see' that I need something, you're just going to pick it out and give it to me?" I asked. "Some of this stuff is pretty expensive."

"Steph, I own the store with my dad. My expenses have been pretty low in the last several years, so I decided to invest in my dad and in me, our futures. This place is a kind of a joint venture. Since I don't draw a salary from the store, periodically I utilize some of the merchandise and so does he. If you need something that I can provide, I'm going to make sure you have it. Friends help friends, you know?"

"You own the store?"

"With my dad. I just said that. Problem?"

"Maybe you'll want it. Some artist dropped off a sample for the owner. I figured it should go to your dad," I said.

He gave me a blank look.

"She came in when you were working with Grandma Mazur and Mr. Berkowitz. She said she wanted to see the owner and had a sample for him."

I went to the register and handed him both the business card and the greeting card. He looked at the picture and quit breathing.

"What'd she look like?" he asked quietly.

"Normal. Female. What?"

"No, really what did she look like?" he asked again.

"I don't know. Dark hair pulled into a loose bun. Olive skin. Blue eyes. Probably in her twenties somewhere, kinda average. By the way she was dressed, I'd say she looked like she belonged more in the store than I do. Why?"

"Nothing, just a dream. I've had someone in and out of my dreams lately who is kind of a free spirit and artsy, but she doesn't match your description."

Whatever. Evidently Woody as 'seer' needed to get glasses. I didn't bother to find out what the 'she' in his dreams was like. It was none of my business.

When it was finally closing time, Woody did pretty much everything he had done to open the store but in reverse. When he went to blow out the candle, he held my hand while he closed his eyes. After about thirty seconds, he squeezed my hand and released it. He got my doggie bag out of the back and we headed out to face what was left of the weekend.

"Did you have a good time?" he asked.

"Overall, yeah. A little too much information about my grandmother and the size of Tank's… well the size of Tank. I could've lived without that," I said.

xx

He escorted me to my apartment and ensured that the dust bunnies, which had been rapidly growing and multiplying, hadn't taken over the place.

"Thanks for coming and working with me today, Steph. We're gonna need to get you a few more practice palms this week to help get you ready for live clients," he said.

"Sounds like fun. I want to read your dad; he's already volunteered," I said.

"I'll call you when I get some more volunteers lined up. See you," he said as he walked out.

I didn't have the door closed to the apartment that I heard him say, "Hey Ranger."

I didn't bother to close the door, I stuck my head out and said, "Hey stranger, what's up?"

"Babe. Nice day?"

"Yeah, I learned a lot. I learned mostly that I've still got a lot to learn. Sure I can't do your palm? I'm still turned on and ready to go."

"You're telling me you're turned on? Is this an offer?" he asked with a smile as he backed me into the wall.

"Not that kind of turned on. Woody helped me to turn on my energy today and I'm still pretty much buzzing. He forgot to turn me off," I said.

"I like the idea of feeling you when you are all turned on," he said.

He felt me being turned on pretty much every time he kissed me. I couldn't help it. He melted my insides to the point it could be hours before I cooled off on my own. I really hoped I hadn't just said that out loud.

He took me in his arms and kissed me slowly and deeply. Ranger's hands were definitely moving and to some interesting places and he was moving them with an excruciating deliberateness. His fingers brushed over my breasts and he stopped cold.

"Is there something new in Cosmo I don't know about?" he asked smiling.

"Huh? What?" I was feeling drugged and my mind couldn't coordinate sounds that made words.

"What do you have in your bra other than the obvious Babe?"

"Oh, yeah. That," I said trying to form words.

"If you don't tell me, I'm more than willing to go on a search and destroy mission and find out for myself," he said smiling.

That was enough to get me out of my stupor.

"They're stones. I've got stones in my bra," I said.

"Why?"

"Cause these pants have no pockets and as long as I'm wearing a bra I've got pockets. You know, when I was in college if I didn't want to carry a purse to the bars, I'd put my money in my bra. I'd kind of forgotten about that until today." Rambling and babbling just felt right somehow. I wasn't sure what Ranger might be after, but a stalling technique seemed to be in order.

"No. What do you need the stones for?" he asked with a smile. "Is it so you can say you really don't have rocks in your head?"

Ass. It looked like we might have been building a mood of romance or something 'fun' but he had just about killed my libido with that comment.

"No. It was because Brett messed up all my energy and Woody didn't want to reground and balance me, so we felt for the right stones instead. Wasn't that nice of him?"

"So you and Woody are advancing beyond just palmistry to energy work?"

"No. I'm just doing palmistry. Woody's just being Woody. It made him happy and I felt better after I put the stones in. Easy."

"Did you pay him for them?"

"No. He gave them to me, and had me put them in my bra. Later he said they were a gift. Is that a problem?"

"No Babe, it's not a problem," he said loosening his grip on me just a little.

"Is this a social call, Ranger?" I asked. "You don't usually make those."

"Actually, it is a full moon tonight and I wanted to know if you'd like to go on a drive with me," he said. "There's a lake I'd like to take you to see."

"Sure."

"We can stop and get you something to eat if you're hungry," he said.

"I don't think I'll be hungry for a while. Woody fed me a couple of times already today," I said.

"If you change your mind," he said, "I'll even willingly buy you the grease of your choice. Let's grab you a sweatshirt and a jacket, it's chilly tonight."

I followed him down the stairs and through the parking lot to the Cayenne. After we got to the freeway, I began to doze. Something about leather seats, soft music and low lighting makes me do that. It'd been a long day, so I deserved a little rest.

A couple hours later, I opened my eyes. Ranger had his hand on my face and was stroking my cheek.

"Babe, we're here," he said.

"Where's here?"

"French Creek State Park."

"We aren't in Jersey anymore are we?"

"Pennsylvania."

He unbuckled my seat belt and we both got out. He pulled two blankets out of the back and draped them over his shoulder.

We walked in the semi-dark for what felt like forever, but was probably only five minutes. It wouldn't have seemed so long, but I don't have the cat-like night vision Ranger seems to have. I stumbled a couple of times and swore. I really wished he'd brought a flashlight with him.

Ranger was walking ahead of me but grabbed my hand to make sure I kept up.

"Not too much further," he said.

I could hardly wait to get to level ground. The next thing I was aware of was that we were at the shore. The moon's reflection rode in the surface of the lake.

"She's gorgeous tonight, isn't she?" he asked.

"It really is a pretty night," I said.

We found a clear space and sat next to each other on the folded blankets.

"Do you know the constellations?" he asked.

"Not many. Usually I'm lucky if I can find the big dipper or the little dipper," I said.

"Trenton's too polluted to see much," he said evidently agreeing with me.

We sat quietly for a while just watching reflection of the moon on the gently rippling water.

"So," I said.

"So?"

"Yeah, so do you come up here much? You seemed to know where you were going despite the dark," I said.

"Could be," he said.

"Smart ass. What does that mean?"

"I try to come here to watch the moon when she is full. It grounds me; makes me feel whole," he said quietly.

"What about when you're in the wind?" I asked.

"I still spend time gazing at the moon, thinking, mediating."

"About?"

"Life. Change of season. Work. You. Lots of things," he said.

"Me? You think about me when you look at the moon? Either you're a romantic or you're nuts," I said.

"I know that wherever I am and wherever you are, when the moon is full we both have a chance to see her at the same time. It gives me a way to be close to you while respecting your space," he said very quietly.

Wow. What do you say to that? I couldn't come up with anything that felt right so I just said, "Thanks."

"You've never noticed, have you?" he asked.

"What?"

"The nights I've broken into your apartment; it's been a full moon," he said.

Oh boy.

He got up and gave me a hand. He took one of the blankets, opened it and spread it on the ground.

"Will you let me hold you here for a while?" he asked. "Stephanie, this isn't a sexual experience; think of it as a religious one."

That wasn't something I could argue with, and I liked being held by him whether I was awake or not.

We kneeled on the blanket and faced each other. Ranger, as usual, was the first to move, he kissed me slowly, almost reverently and then he lay on his back. He indicated he wanted me to put my head on his chest, so I did. He covered us both with the remaining blanket. There was no talking and after he kissed my forehead there was no more kissing, just him playing with my hair and me rubbing my hand over his heart.

Somehow, this felt far more intimate than sex ever could. It spoke of trust, intimacy and something, I don't know, almost sacred.

I didn't realize that I had fallen asleep until my eyes opened to dawn breaking. My back felt tight and I was feeling a definite chill. Ranger looked like he was still asleep.

"Morning, Babe," he said in a gruff voice.

"I didn't think you were awake," I said.

"I was awake most of the night," he said. "It was one of the nicest moons I can remember in a long time. Thank you for sharing her with me."

I had no idea what to say, so I said nothing except the perfunctory, "You're welcome."

We got the blankets folded and headed back to the Cayenne.

We were almost back to Trenton when he finally said something, "Hungry?"

"I could eat," I said.

We pulled into a little diner outside the city limits and had breakfast. He had an egg white and some kind of veggie omelet and I had the high fat breakfast special.

"That stuff'll kill you," he said when it arrived.

"Yeah, but I'll die happy with my taste buds intact," I said.

He attempted to roll his eyes at me, but clearly he didn't have enough practice.

He dropped me off at my apartment, making certain that Rex was still on the job and that there had been no interlopers.

If I didn't know better I'd have said that Ranger actually looked relaxed and happy when he left.

_A/N: See it's not so bad to be turned on by a Merry Man. I've heard French Creek State Park is pretty, if you're in the area, take a look._

_Coming soon: dating adventures with Woody_

en./wiki/FrenchCreekStatePark


	11. Chapter 11

Nothing But Time On My Hands

Disclaimer: All for fun but nothing for profit.

Thanks to Bluz, Deb and Deb, Jaime, Kate, Luisa and Melody … you have made it possible for me to keep my hands to myself instead of goosing Merry Men….damn it.

Nothing But Time On My Hands  
Chapter 11  
By Alfonsina

When I had spent the Saturday working at Fairy Godmother's, Woody and I never really had the talk about what he wanted in a woman. The day had gone quickly but it was spent more working than talking; I guess that was probably a good thing from a business point of view.

Monday Woody and I went to a frozen yogurt shop to discuss the possible woman of his dreams. I think much better when a frozen dessert has sprinkles and whipped cream on it, at least that's what I told Woody especially since he was buying.

"So what are you looking for in a soulmate?" I asked.

"The usual," he said smiling.

Freak.

"What exactly does that mean?"

"You know. The standard working equipment," he said shoveling a large spoonful of frozen goodness into his mouth.

"Perfect. You aren't being a lot of help here. Now want me to be a mind reader. I'm not going to work at the store for twenty years working off lessons in being a psychic." I took a much smaller bite, not to be delicate, but I couldn't compete with the way Woody ate. If he ever quit working for Ranger his diet would need a significant overhaul.

"OK. OK. It's not something I've thought a lot about. It's something I've been feeling and dreaming," he said with a far away look in his eyes.

We were back to the whole new-age touchy feely crap.

"So what do you feel? I mean about her?" Hey, I could play along.

"She will complete me," he said.

"This isn't Jerry McGuire. It's freaking real life, not a Tom Cruise Movie. Let's start with the basics: how old?"

"OK, some life experience, but not too much. How about between 23 - 35?"

Good, he can be a little flexible.

"Is divorced OK?" I asked.

"Sure but I'd like to know why the marriage failed," he said. "I mean did he cheat? Did she? Was she abused? Did her family push her into a marriage she didn't want? Did she do the right thing for all the wrong reasons?" He could be from the Burg, he wanted all the details.

"What about kids?"

"I love kids. Kids would be no problem; the ex might be depending on how he handles it." This was going to make it easier.

"Religion? Most of the people I know are Italian Catholic in background. Problem?"

"Not as long as they are open minded."

"Do we need to do the religion thing up front?" I asked.

"The open minded thing we have to do up front," he said. "It helps to narrow things down. I can accept almost anyone's beliefs but they've got to be tolerant of mine. Better to eliminate the narrow minded before they make it very far on the list."

"Got it."

"Can you give me some characteristics?"

"Cute, independent, dependable, loyal, accepting, faithful. You know the usual," he said.

He wasn't intentionally being difficult, just playful. He was one of the few Merry Men who actually could be playful without looking foolish.

"Woody, that's not a woman, that's a golden retriever."

Thank God he wasn't reading off the Boy Scout list: trusty worthy, loyal, helpful, friendly, courteous, kind, obedient, cheerful, thrifty, brave, clean, and reverent. Actually, all in all it wasn't a bad list of qualifications, but the obedient and courteous could be tough to find, especially for someone over the age of eight.

"In that case, how about chemistry? I'd like to have good chemistry." He got behind me, nuzzled my neck, sucked my earlobe and squeezed my posterior. "Oh yeah, and I'd like to be able to get her flushed once in a while."

Jerk. Well, now we knew he could fluster me.

"Hands off the merchandise, bright boy. We both know I'm not on your available candidate list."

"Yeah. Yeah, I know," he said. He sighed as we got back in the car to go back to work.

I wondered if matchmakers ever got paid in desserts. It could be a problem for me if I took this up as a sideline. I might actually have to learn to like exercise. Plus how would I declare desserts on my taxes?

xx

Wednesday I got myself roped into having dinner with the family. Val and her daughters came. Albert actually had a case and was working so he could make money to keep home and hearth together. With the exception of my father, it looked like this was going to be "ladies' night." Then again so long as you didn't count my father, it was virtually always ladies' night at the Plum house.

While we were cleaning up the wreckage that had been the kitchen, I took the opportunity to talk to my sister.

"Hey Val? Do you have any single friends?" I asked.

"Mostly married like me or divorced like you. Most of the divorced ones have kids. Why?" she asked.

"I'm trying to fix up a friend. He's kind of shy."

"Nobody is coming to mind. You usually don't do the fix up thing," she said. "You've got more sense than that."

We both knew how quickly things got misconstrued in the Burg and so we both tried to keep our noses out of other people's business. Val did because she was smart. I did because I was usually on the wrong end of the rumors.

"I know. But he's a sweetie and I'd like to see him meet somebody nice," I said.

"Who ya gonna fix up? It's not Cary Grant is it? I thought you were keeping Cary Grant," Grandma said.

Grandma couldn't hear the television unless it was at full volume but a conversation that might be even just a little delicate, that she could hear across a major intersection during rush hour.

"Woody, Grandma. I've never had Woody. Woody wants me to help him meet a nice girl," I said.

"Is he Italian?" my mother asked. She just came in from the dining room with another set of dishes to wash. "More important, is he Catholic?"

"I don't know what religion he is, but I don't think so. Mom, did he look Italian to you? Would it matter? It's not like he's for me." Italian men weren't high on my list anyway. The whole Italian macho male was highly overrated in my book.

This was supposed to be a couple of fix ups to build Woody's confidence. You know, get his feet wet, get him to _actually talk_ to girls. I wasn't arranging a marriage. This wasn't a guarantee of happily ever after, not for anybody.

After the dishes were done, the four of us sat around the kitchen table to compare notes and make lists. We came up with 35 possible names. Next we went through each candidate to check her qualifications. We disqualified as many as we could up front. The first marked off were the ones who were still married. One had died. Another one was in the middle of a bad divorce. There was one lesbian, he would have accepted bi-sexual but not lesbian. Grandma wanted to know if she was gay, would Woody try to convert her?

The list was narrowed down from 35 to three. One was divorced with no kids. The second was divorced with kids. The final had never been married and had no children.

Mom and Grandma told me if they thought of anyone else, they'd call me. Val wanted to go through the class roster for each of the girls to see if there were any viable candidates to add later.

On my way home, I called Woody. He was excited I had as many as three possibilities. I hoped that if the word hit the grapevine that there was a nice, single boy available we'd get some additional names to add to the list. It would've helped if he'd been Italian or at the very least Catholic.

xx

The Burg likes nothing more than a challenge, except a good rumor. And Woody was seen as the Burg's current challenge. Everyone wanted to help him find his 'happily ever after.' I got suggestions almost everywhere I went. I even got recommendations when I was at the grocery store and the gas station.

Grandma got the women at the Clip 'N Curl involved. They couldn't come up with anyone under the age of fifty. The ladies all wanted to know if Ronny was looking for a nice woman of a certain age. He wasn't.

Mom kept trying to get me to put myself on the list. She thought in the right lighting he might pass as at least part Italian. She even wanted to talk to him about possible conversion.

Val wanted to see if we could invite him to Mary Alice's next birthday party. She thought it might be interesting to see if any of the mom's might be interesting to him. It was an idea with definite merit.

Lula and Connie had been a bust. Lula just wanted to look at Woody and drool. In addition, she kept trying to give me hints of things I might be able to do to convince Woody I was his one true love. She even offered to light one of her _special green _ candles for me. Ewww. Connie didn't know anyone who was single who wasn't 'family'. Despite it all, they wanted to be kept appraised of my progress on the Woody soulmate front.

xx

Woody's first date was with Holly Adams. They went to a small jazz club and got along really well until she asked what he did for a living. To say she came unglued was mild. It turned out that I should have asked if she had an aversion to firearms. She did. Turned out it was a big aversion.

Strike one.

Louise Kessler had a daughter who was Mary Alice's age and the girls got along well. Louise worked two jobs but made her daughter's play dates a priority. Louise had a play date scheduled at the park. She and Woody agreed to meet there.

That same Saturday Val left me with Lisa so she could take Angie shoe shopping alone. Mary Alice's play date was supposed to last a total of two hours. Woody was her designated 'babysitter'.

The kids got along and played well together and so did the adults.

I got a call from Val that shopping was going to take a little longer than planned. I was to pick up Mary Alice from the park and deliver her to Albert.

By the time I got to the park, Woody was alone with Mary Alice. He was pushing her on the swings. I arrived with the baby in tow. About the same time I reached them, the baby decided she was going to be sick all over the front of my shirt.

Woody had pretty much seen everything under the sun before and a little baby vomit didn't phase him. He and Mary Alice walked me and the baby to the public bathroom to clean up.

I had the baby-bag so I could clean Lisa up, at least a little for the ride home. There were no clean clothes in the bag but some wet wipes. When I got done with Lisa, I walked out and handed Woody the baby.

I went back inside to tackle the really icky mess that was all over me. I wound up like an unlikely contender in a wet and smelly t-shirt contest. Not a good look and definitely not a good smell on me.

"How's it going?" he called through the door.

"Not so well. I really wish I had a clean shirt in the car," I sighed.

"Let me see the new and improved you," he said.

Smart Aleck.

I left the sanctuary of the women's bathroom. He took one look and laughed. He handed me the baby and stripped off his own shirt. Then he exchanged his shirt for the baby. It would've been a great picture the small baby on a large expanse of muscular chest; lucky baby.

I finished the basic clean up and met the three of them under a nearby tree.

He carried the baby and draped his free arm over my shoulder. I held Mary Alice's hand on the walk back to the parking lot. It was a small lot and I was parked next to Woody's work truck.

We were almost to the cars when I heard one of Grandma's friends say, "What a nice looking family."

"They aren't a family, but that's Stephanie's new fella."

We really did look like we belonged together. It was comfortable and felt nice. This shouldn't be happening. This should be happening with Woody and someone else, not me.

Woody and I parted ways. He went to do whatever he did in his free time. I took the kids back to Val's. She wasn't back yet, so I unleashed them all on an unsuspecting Albert.

Monday morning I put Woody's freshly laundered shirt on his desk with a note.

I enjoyed wearing your shirt after the accident,  
but think it looks better on you.

Thanks again for being there. You were great.  
-S

Bobby noticed the shirt and the note and came looking for me.

"Accident. Steph, are you OK? Were you hurt? I haven't seen a report of any accident."

Great.

"A projectile vomiting accident. Val's baby got sick all over me when we were all at the park. It was pretty messy so Woody let me wear his shirt for my drive home."

I was in the break room when Woody said, "You know, I'd give you the shirt off my back whenever you want it."

"How was the date? You never really did say."

"She was nice, but it was hard. I may not know what to say to women, but that wasn't the problem this time. I didn't have to say anything, she said it all for both of us. I know way too much about her now to be more than friends," he said with a visible shiver.

OK. Strike two.

"Who's up next?" he asked.

"I'll shoot you an e-mail as soon as I find out who the lucky girl is."

xx

Woody's next date, Constance Eckelkamp, I'd known since high school. She was a jock in the old days and it turned out that she still was.

They went on a long bike ride on some trails in a local park. I mean he works out and he's buff, so it should have been no problem.

Fitness was not the problem. They had great chemistry, similar sense of humor and values. At the end of the afternoon she dropped an unanticipated bomb. Religion. Seemed that until three weeks before she'd been a-religious and suddenly found God. She had been tolerant of other people's ideas, but now couldn't understand why someone wouldn't have the same values she did.

She invited him to church for a revival. When he declined and wouldn't explain why, she pushed. He didn't want to go into any details but he told her that he wasn't open to that type of experience. When she wanted to argue the point and push some more, he was up front and said it had been a nice ride but that he needed to be going.

xx

Woody said, "The more women I meet, the more disillusioned I become and the more I fall from my standard."

"When we started, you didn't have a standard," I said.

"I guess I do now. It's been kind of like a block of clay being molded and shaped."

"We'll keep looking, I promise."

xx

In the period of a month, Woody went out with eight women, but it felt like so many more. None of them were a fit. I even called the women who didn't make the grade to see if they knew someone who was single and started the process over again. I was smiling and dialing, I'd have made one fantastic telemarketer.

Lula, Connie and I sat around the bonds office reviewing a new list of potential candidates.

"Why you looking so hard?" Lula asked.

"I'd want someone to help me," I said. "If I was looking, which I am not."

"You still holding out hope for Batman?" she asked.

"No." Yes. "Look, we're friends. I'd rather have him as a friend than not have him at all. Besides, I'm sure he could do better than me."

"So are any of those women working out so far?" Connie asked.

Huh?

"Working out? You know, second dates and all that."

"No second dates," I sighed. "Not yet anyway. After each date, Woody and I get together and talk about what went right and what went wrong."

"How many so far?" Lula asked.

"Six. Eight. Fourteen. I wish that's all I could say to you is fourteen, but I can't. I do know it's been lots. I don't remember any more."

"Girl, he's getting plenty of dates on his own," Lula said.

I looked at her not following her train of thought.

"You. Don't you see it? He goes out with them to spend time with you."

"Do you truly think a man would spend his free evenings or his lunch hours discussing dates he's been on with other women?"

"Not a great approach," Connie said. "I'll grant you that. But I could see it happening. You know, ingraining himself in your life a little at a time. You're protesting too much. He might be looking at you as the one he wants."

"Get real. He doesn't now, nor has he ever, seen me that way. And am not protesting too much."

I stopped and listened to my own voice. It was exactly like I was protesting too much. I was protesting this a lot.

xx

The next Saturday, I went to Fairy Godmother's and talked to Ronny while I was dusting. I pronounced myself a failure in the whole 'soulmate' arena.

"My son is an idealist. Woodrow will know when he's met the one. He may not recognize her yet, but I can tell she's not far away."

"Anything I can do to help him recognize her?"

"We should let nature take its course. When he's really ready, she'll appear and he won't have any problem recognizing her."

I guess Woody wasn't ready yet because the right woman sure didn't seem to be appearing from anywhere.

Ronny dug around behind the counter and found a calendar. Then he appeared to have what Oprah calls an 'ah ha' moment. He went into the back room and started shifting boxes.

When he finally reappeared, he had a piece of pink silk in his hands. He went to the candle section and pulled out what looked like a random selection. Next he chose several stones from the baskets and some other small items. All of the contents were placed in a gift bag complete with tissue paper.

Ronny opened the register and took out two twenty dollar bills. "Steph, you need to get this to him tomorrow morning. Before you make the delivery, you need to go to a florist. Please buy three pink, three red, three white and three yellow roses. Make sure you tell him that 'tonight's the night'."

"But tomorrow is Sunday."

"Can you go in tomorrow morning? It's time sensitive."

"He'll know what to do?"

"Kid, he was born knowing what to do."

I dusted some more and noted some changes in the merchandise. "Hey, I noticed you've got some new cards in the spinner."

"Woodrow showed me the artist's sample. She's got an amazing talent, very inspiring. Funny, I haven't met her, neither has Woodrow. I talked to her on the phone, but her friend was the one who delivered the stock we have on display."

I left the store and Ronny called out, "Love ya, Steph. Thanks."

xx

The next morning my arms were full as I walked toward the cubicles. Erik saw me and asked, "Got yourself a new beau?"

"Nope."

"Nope, no new beau? Or do you have a beau we don't know about?"

I shook my head. "Neither," I said.

"You aren't buying flowers for yourself are you? One of us'll buy you flowers, if you want some. That's what brothers do."

What a sweet offer.

"They aren't for me," I said.

"You buying my men flowers, Babe?" Ranger asked. How was it he could seem to materialize from thin air some days?

"Not all of them, just Woody."

"Why?" The voice was nonchalant, but the body language wasn't; it seldom ever was.

"They aren't from me. They're from his dad, I'm just the delivery person."

"Babe, when you buy flowers for me, I like tiger lilies."

Pompous ass.

I walked to Woody's desk, placed the gift bag on the chair and the flowers across his keyboard. I wrote a note on the sticky that said, "Tonight's the night." If he didn't come back in a couple of hours, I'd put the roses in water myself.

Even though it was Sunday, I decided to put in a few hours. Maybe I could trade it for a different shift during the week; Ranger and Tank were pretty flexible with me.

Midday I parked myself in the break room and was reading a romance novel, the historical type, and was pretty absorbed in it. I didn't hear, see or feel Woody. He put both of his hands on my shoulders, squeezed and nearly scared the life out of me. My response? I dropped the book. It fell to the floor with a resounding thunk. Hey it was well over one thousand pages in hardback, he was lucky it fell. If it hadn't, I might've thrown it at him for scaring me.

"So tonight's the night, huh?" he asked.

I glared. Jerk.

"You leave candles, silk, bath salts, oils and flowers for all the men in your life? Or am I special? Should I feel touched? I had no idea you were such a romantic."

Excuse me?

The three Rangemen in the lunchroom took that as their cue to pack up and leave. Great, now more witnesses to the 'nothing' that was going on between us.

"You know better than that. I am one of the least romantic women you'll probably ever meet," I said. "Besides, it's all from your dad."

"A guy can hope," he said with a wink. "And yeah, I knew who they were from."

"What are you going to do with all that stuff anyway?" I asked.

"Well, if you come to my place and you're willing to get naked with me, you can find out for yourself. It is something you should experience at least once for yourself," he said with a really big smile.

"God I hope you're kidding," I said. He shook his head at me. "Pass," I said.

"If you don't wanna this month, we can do it next month," he said with an even bigger smile.

"You just want to make me uncomfortable right now. Do you want anything else or can I get back to my book?"

"Actually Hawk is in from Las Vegas until tomorrow. He wants to know if you'll read his palm tonight. You up for it?"

"Sure. Where?" I asked.

"Wrong Number at 6:00?"

"Meet you there."

"I've got to be out of there by 8:00. Hawk'll make sure you're fed if I haven't already taken care of you," he said. He picked the book up from the floor and handed it to me. "Enjoy," he said as he headed back out.

Ranger sent me an e-mail and asked me meet him in his office.

"What's up?"

"I wanted to know if you are available for dinner tonight at 6:30?"

"Sorry, I've got a quickie with Hawk and Woody tonight."

"Babe."

"Quickie as in quick palm reading. Jeesh. You can come if you want."

"Pass."

"Rain check?"

"No thanks. I'm going to be out of town for a couple of days to Boston. Special project."

"Don't have too much fun," I said. "See you when you get back."

"Babe."

xx

Ronny called my cell to make sure I'd gotten the flowers and other goodies to Woody. He seemed pleased and even more pleased that I was going to read another client.

"In a couple of weeks your apprenticeship will be over and you can start to take on paid clients. Keep up the hard work. Don't forget who loves ya baby."

"Yeah, yeah. You say that to all the people who dust your store."

Sometimes I didn't know what to think about Ronny, he was a strange man. At least palmistry was finally going to become a moneymaking venture! About time!


	12. Chapter 12

Nothing But Time On My Hands

Disclaimer: Short and sweet – not making any money but having lots of fun.

Thanks to amazing Melody, lovely Luisa, inspiring CSKate, awesome Jaime, supporter Deb, extraordinary editor Deb (bb babe), and of course the immortal and undeniable Bluzkat

Nothing But Time On My Hands  
Chapter 12  
By Alfonsina

I stopped into the bonds office the a few days later to check on any new files. Nothing.

"Any luck with the quest for a soulmate?" Connie asked.

"Mine or Woody's?" Well so much for keeping my thoughts to myself. It was something that had been on my mind, but I guess I hadn't realized quite how much.

"We didn't think you were interested. All we ever hear about is the list of women you've been organizing for Woody," Connie said. "But it would be fun to see what you come up with for yourself."

"You finally gonna start to look? I'd like to watch, especially if you ever let your hormones take control." Lula said. "What's got you considering it now?"

"Actually, I've been reading this book and it's making me _consider_ looking for one of my own. Right now, it's more of a fantasy thing."

"Is the book good?" Connie asked.

"Oh yeah, and steamy. It's Outlander by Diane Gabaldon," I said. "And let me tell you that if I found my own Jaime the Red Scott, there are all sorts of things I'd love to do to him."

At some point in the conversation, I lost Connie and Lula. I was in my own world thinking about Jaime the Red Scott with all the muscles and the kilt and his ability to ...

I felt a hand on my lower back and I jumped. Ranger had come back a little early and was standing behind me.

"I'd let you demonstrate some of those things on me," he said directly into my ear, "and then there are some things that I'd show you in an up-close and very personal way. Reality can be so much more fulfilling than fiction."

I needed to start to breathe again. In through the nose and out through the mouth. Come on, in through the nose. I closed my eyes but it wasn't making breathing any easier. Ranger made things hard intentionally and it wasn't until he brushed himself into my backside that I realized just how hard things really were.

"Got plans for tonight, Babe?"

I shook my head.

"Up for a job tonight?"

I nodded. I wasn't sure if I was up to talking quite yet.

"Pick you up at 8:00."

I nodded again.

"We'll talk about the details outside," he said as he took me by the hand and led me to the alleyway.

I was backed against the wall and he was invading my personal space. Oh boy.

"Missed you," he said. His eyes were searching for something that he didn't seem to be finding. Once again I wished I knew what he wanted.

"You weren't gone that long," I said. The man could be gone weeks on end and act like he'd just been to the corner market, so this 'missed you' comment was highly unusual for him.

"So how's the Woody dating project coming?" he asked.

The question didn't come out like they normally did, you know, distanced as though the answer didn't really matter to him. This was asked with studied casual tone and body language, but to me it was a little too casual. Something was up, but I couldn't place my finger on it.

"More like the Woody soulmate project," I said. "Poorly. For a guy who said he wasn't fussy he sure is picky."

"Particular."

"What?"

"Particular is a better word. It indicates that he wants the right thing for the right reasons. Picky is usually selfish and not about happiness. Picky usually has a bad spirit about it."

Got it.

"I'm particular," he said looking like he wanted to kiss me. As soon I thought I recognized the look, it had already passed and with it the potential kiss.

"So who're we going after tonight?" I could pretend we didn't almost have a moment just as well as he could. Ok, maybe not as well, but I was working on it.

"Vic Steward. Major coke distributor."

"And he likes?"

"Short skirts, lots of cleavage. Playful women, but not stupid. He'll be with two or three others. We want to keep him separated from his backup. They aren't important to us."

"OK."

"The file will be delivered this afternoon so you can review it," he said. Then he kissed my forehead and was gone.

He was blowing hot and cold again. That man really needed to have a thermostat installed. I really wished he would make up his mind. Actually, I wished both of us would.

One of the things I'd learned in palm reading was how people make decisions. Some people are very logical. Others are strictly emotional or intuition based. The last group choose not to decide, but that was also a decision and they never seem happy with the results. I try to use logic when I make my decisions, less second guessing. Unfortunately, with Ranger it seemed I always choose not to decide and that left me forever in the land of the less than satisfied. One day I was going to have to decide it was worth it to make my own decisions and live with the outcomes.

This would all be easier if he'd just let me look at that one little line in his palm.

xx

Before I left to get ready for the evening's distraction I saw a zip-lock baggie with five small pieces of amber on my desk. I called Woody knowing he was the only one, other than Ronny, who would leave something like that for me.

He said he was feeling uneasy and if I didn't want to 'protect myself' I could at least humor him and ease his mind. He wanted me to put a piece in my car, one in my locker, one in the desk and one under my bed.

"What about the last one?" I asked.

My question was answered by silence.

I figured it out for myself; it was for one of the cups of my bra.

"But these stones are smaller than the ones in the earrings," I said.

"Despite what you may have heard, energetically, size doesn't matter. Vibration does." Damn, now that sounded like it could be fun. I wondered exactly what kind of vibration he might have in mind.

"Size doesn't matter?" I asked. It just didn't seem right, size always seemed to matter at some level. Didn't it?

At that exact moment Brett walked by. He said, "Too bad for me size doesn't matter. That's a contest I could most definitely win." Then he winked. "Wanna demonstration, Steph?"

I rolled my eyes. "I'm talking about gem stones."

Some people.

xx

Ranger had Brett drop off the file in the early afternoon. Before I embarked on the whole beauty ritual, I dug through my closet until I found a black skirt that barely fit and barely covered my assets. I found a blouse that was an almost sheer black to pair with it. Who was I kidding? In the right light the shirt really was sheer enough to read the phonebook through. The requisite black, patent leather pumps, four inches high. Thigh high hose were going to complete the ensemble, the kind that roll on and stay up with elastic. The skirt didn't give the option of a garter belt.

I set my hair on hot rollers while I took a bath and did all the necessary chores to become 'beautiful' for the night. I donned lacy, boy shorts with a matching demi-cup, push-up bra. The cups on the bra were so low that my nipples all but showed. I decided to pray for a warm night, it could be embarrassing otherwise. The piece of amber was small enough not to show through and not to impact my silhouette. The shirt was sheer enough that the bra was going to become a featured attraction in the outfit one way or another.

I dried off and covered myself in a short robe. Then I began my job as transformational artist in earnest.

Regular makeup took me about ten minutes, give or take. I'd gotten the standard Jersey girl on the prowl look perfected to take about fifteen minutes, that was the look employed for most distractions. Tonight, however, was the 'I'm expensive but worth it' and that was about twenty-five minutes beginning to end.

The makeup was done but the hair was still in rollers when Ranger let himself in. I stuck my head out the bathroom door and said, "I need a couple more minutes. OK?"

He nodded.

I closed the door, put on the shirt and attempted the skirt. The skirt was actually a perfect fit provided it didn't need to be zipped. I was going to have to get serious about some gym time or buy some larger clothes.

"Damn it," I said.

"You OK in there?"

"Yes and no. Yes I am fine, sort of. And no, because I can't get the zipper on this damned skirt to go up."

"I'm good with zippers."

"I'll keep that in mind."

I finally got the zipper up but the skirt was so tight that I felt like it had been shrink wrapped onto my body. I finished my hair and used enough spray to prevent it from moving in a tornado. I was ready for my close-up, so to speak.

He walked with me to the elevator and smelled my neck.

"Babe, why do you smell like the mall?"

"It's Cinnabon bath stuff from Philosophy," I said. "You know I love cinnamon rolls. There's nothing like having something hot, spicy and sticky that makes you want to lick your lips. This way I remember all the good stuff with none of the calories or the guilt."

"I'll help you burn off some calories."

"Sorry. I was talking without thinking again."

I didn't know how much longer I'd be able to keep up the sexy banter. Something was going to happen sooner than later if I wasn't careful. I just wasn't sure what that something was that was going to happen or how I felt about it.

xx

The lounge was done in chrome and rich leather. From all appearances it looked like Vic Stewart was holding court. I couldn't catch his eye initially. I got almost no attention with my chocolate martini at the bar. Moaning and licking my lips was having no impact on anyone but me; it made me want a Hershey's chocolate bar with almonds. There wasn't even a dance floor that I could employ.

I decided to be more active in my attempt to get his attention. I 'accidentally' dropped my clutch purse. Instead of bending at the knees to retrieve it, I bent over giving him a view of the lace he wouldn't have gotten to see otherwise. Then again, Brett, Zero and Caesar wouldn't have seen it either. I counted myself lucky that the skirt didn't split when I bent over.

I was now a magnet for half the men in the room, and some of the women. As I stood back up I realized that I had quite the audience. I made a show of readjusting myself oh so slowly. Vic was instantly by my side.

We bantered and I used my new line about 'hot, sticky and spicy' to get him to follow me out of the bar.

Ranger had me home in under an hour.

"I was serious about helping you burn off some calories," he said.

"No thanks. You'll probably just want me to run with you or take me to do an obstacle course somewhere."

"Not necessarily," he said. "I can be very creative when it comes to exercise. Think about it."

He held me closely for a minute and left. That's when I felt a draft. He'd unzipped my skirt and I hadn't even noticed. Jerk.


	13. Chapter 13

Nothing But Time On My Hands

Disclaimer: The standards apply.

Thanks to Cat for the prompt – I think it has added significantly to Woody's life experience.

Of course, the band of betas are owed a debt of gratitude, Bluz, Cow Shed Katie, the Double Debs, Jaime and Melody – you make me write better and prove to me that it is possible by your own examples. You all humble me, in a good way.

Nothing But Time On My Hands  
Chapter 13  
By Alfonsina

A week or so later, Woody called me and said, "Got plans for Thursday night?"

"No. Why?"

"I've been practicing making a dinner and I want to try it out on you before I do it for a real girl."

Thanks for that. One really-big-pain-in-the-ass. Two really-big-pain-in-the-ass. Three …

I got to 45 really-big-pain-in-the-ass when Woody said, "Are you still there? You know what I meant."

"Yeah and because of that smart mouth comment, you're going to have to treat me like I'm a real date and not one of the guys," I said.

"I can do that. I'll pick you up Thursday at 6:30."

As I went through the motions getting ready, I was a little excited. A) I hadn't been on a formal 'date' in forever; B) I'd hopefully see Woody decked out; and C) I hadn't had a man cook for me in almost as long as I hadn't had a date; I didn't count reheating pizza in the microwave as cooking.

xx

The knock on the door came at 6:27. Woody was dolled up in a well fitting pair of khakis and a Jerome Alexander button down. All in all, I'd say he was very nicely packaged and smelling exceptionally edible. More important than what he was wearing was what Woody had in his hands, a small box of truffles. I've never had anyone ever bring me a gift before a date. I was verklempt.

Because I had no idea what to expect from an evening with Woody, I kept my clothes as attractive as possible while still considering ease of movement and range of motion, just in case. I had no real idea what he had planned, but I didn't want to take any chances. Besides I was making him treat me like a date for crying out loud. I had on grey dress slacks, a maroon v-necked sweater and two-inch plain pumps. I had a vintage cashmere jacket just in case it was cold. I wore my hair down; it was behaving for once.

Normally Woody drove the standard issue Rangeman SUV in basic black. His own car was actually very nice but a little sedate. It was a four door, gold Lexus sedan. I'd expected big, fast and furious; instead I got quiet, refined and family. Who knew?

He opened the car door for me and helped me in.

"Where're we going?"

"The house. Dad's out of town and won't be back until he has to open the store on Monday. I didn't want to do this at my apartment."

"Where, exactly, do you live?"

"Haywood like most of the rest of the guys. But if Dad's out of town, I look in on the house and just sort of check on things."

xx

We pulled into a quiet middle of the road neighborhood. The house was a white, two level, frame job that looked like it had been built in the 1930s.

We entered the house through the back door. Per Woody, the only people who used the front were visitors. Guess I was family.

The backdoor opened into a clean but utilitarian kitchen. The most amazing smells were coming from the oven. It smelled like my grandma's kitchen did when I was growing up, all basil, oregano and garlic.

"Dinner'll be ready in ten or fifteen minutes," he said. "And it's a surprise."

He wouldn't let me help, so I hung out and kept him company in the kitchen while he finished up. Dinner turned out to be a veggie lasagna (heavy on the squash, mushrooms and cheese), a garlic bread and salad. It was a pretty good meal considering the lack of meat, the overabundance of veggies and the missing dessert.

The conversation was light and easy. I helped clean up despite his protestations.

He hadn't planned beyond dinner and was stuck for ideas of things to do. I didn't know what people did after dinner dates either, not really. We were back to the blind leading the blind. If I'd been with Morelli, there wouldn't have been a problem; we would have checked on the condom supply and raced upstairs.

He asked if I wanted to watch a DVD. The selection stunned me. It was virtually all chick flicks and kids movies. What? I pointed this out to Woody who shrugged and said something about his father keeping in touch with his 'feminine side' and entertaining his 'inner child'.

"Why does your dad worry about his feminine side?" I asked.

"You know my dad's a widower, right?"

I shook my head. I'd never really given a thought to whomever Ronny might have been married to. I don't know why, I just sort of figured he was divorced.

"My folks were very much opposite sides of the same coin and loved each other very much. He was the uber macho Marine. She was the softer side of everything. They were kind of the personification of yin and yang. I guess that's ultimately what I want."

I nodded to indicate I was still listening. It looked like this was going to be a painful discussion and I didn't want to interrupt his flow.

"I was in high school when she went into renal failure. Because of other health issues, she wasn't a candidate for a transplant."

What to say to that? "How awful for all of you," I said.

I had killed the mood in the room and was really feeling awful about it.

"Actually it was a really good thing," he said. "I learned a lot about the man I wanted to be when she got sick. I guess it's part of why I've had such a hard time connecting to the women you've set me up with. I want a relationship like they had."

Oh boy.

"I want to tell you something I've never told anybody," he said. "He retired from the Marines just to take care of her. He would have been a lifer. I mean he'd done his stint and his retirement couldn't be compromised, but he wanted to be there for her ever day as much as he could."

That was the kind of love I wanted, but had never thought about.

"Some days on dialysis were rough on her and she would come home and just crash," he said sadly. "That's when he would make her as comfortable as he could and he would sing to her. It was always off key and low, but it was singing and it was special."

"What was her favorite?" I asked knowing this was sacred ground we were treading on.

"Actually, her favorite was always Simon and Garfunkle's Bridge Over Troubled Water," he said.

"I always did like that song," I said. I could never imagine anyone singing the words and meaning them, 'I will comfort you. I will take your part.'

It was like Woody heard me thinking. "He would have traded his life for hers at any point. He would have done anything to ease her troubles and her pain. For her part, she would have done anything to ease his emotional pain."

Now I wanted to cry, but oddly this wasn't bothering Woody at all. Whenever I hear that song that's all that ever runs through my own mind, not his mom but wanting to cry. I guess that's why I change the radio station when that song comes on the air.

"I didn't know those were things that were going to show up on your soulmate list," I said. "Maybe we need to rework your list, sounds like you are after a pretty serious relationship. We're going to have to find a really special woman for you." Now the international search would have to begin, I doubted anybody in the Burg would fit up to this level of intensity.

"Steph, you've got to relax. Some things develop over time, kind of like wine gets better over time and so do some cheeses. Anyway getting back to where we started with this, my mom. We were able to tell her how much we loved her and we told her all the time. It became a habit to always tell everybody much we love and appreciate each other. My dad knew too many people who hadn't done those things and regretted it, so he made sure we didn't regret anything."

"A tremendous gift," I said.

"I guess. The crux of it is, you never know if you may not see someone again, so you need to make sure to tell them that you love them when you leave or they do."

"So that's why your dad told me loved me the other day?"

I couldn't remember the last time I told anybody that I loved them, not anyone in my family, not my friends, nobody. Shit. If I died tomorrow, nobody would ever know that I thought they had a special place in my heart.

"Yeah. He's not in love with you. He loves the person you are. Loves the core of you. He sees you like family. I see you the same way. Love you the same way."

"You see me like family?"

"No. I love the person you are, just like you are. But it's not a romantic love," he said with a wistful smile.

"Me, too. About you I mean," I said.

"Anyway, let's get to something a little lighter, the selection of movies; it's his way of honoring her memory and he's hoping to have a nice collection of movies for a grandchild someday. Besides, he saw enough action in the Marines to never need to see any realistic explosions or surplus violence. He does make an exception for James Bond movies."

The mood lightened considerably with those words for both of us. It was comforting and comfortable. It let me know who Woody is and how he got to be that way. I liked that a lot.

Woody let the choice of movies be mine. After that conversation, I wasn't in the moody for overly sappy or teary. I found a copy of the Disney movie 'The Incredibles'. I'd never gotten around to seeing it and Mary Alice and Angie both loved it. It was neutral. It would have enough action to keep him happy and there would be no sex scenes to make either one of us uncomfortable.

The house had been decorated in shabby chic. It was comfortable and very lived in. Ronny had evidently splurged on the important things, the electronics. On the wall was a 65" HDTV complete with surround sound and theatre lighting. The living room definitely said 'man cave.'

We sat next to each other on the sofa and put our stocking feet on the coffee table; my mother wouldn't have approved. The movie wasn't half over before I realized that Woody had fallen asleep and was drooling on my shoulder. His snoring was quieter when he was sober, but that wasn't a big trick.

I got up and found a throw to cover him with, reduced the volume on the TV and continued to watch the movie. I didn't know quite what to do with myself when it was over. I had no car, no real idea of where I was and no desire to wake a sleeping Woody.

I decided to do something not totally out of character for me. I played Goldilocks. I crept up the stairs and turned on the hall light. There were three bedrooms and one bathroom.

The first room appeared to be an office and had some funky art on the wall. The next room was obviously lived in and must have been his father's room. The last option was what I assumed to be the guest room. It had a bureau and a queen-sized bed. I opened a drawer and found several tie dyed t-shirts, chose the top shirt from the stack and went to the bathroom to handle my business and fold my clothes. I left the bedroom door open out of habit and crawled into bed. Before I knew it I was out for the night.

Several hours later I woke to a disoriented feeling, a full bladder and a strange hand cupping my breast. I tried to lift the hand, it was unwilling to be removed; it stretched and tightened over the breast.

"Don't go yet," the voice mumbled. "Comfortable."

For my own wellbeing, I needed to figure out who was with me and do it out quickly. I decided to use the process of elimination, but without caffeine I was certainly no Sherlock Holmes. I determined I wasn't home and I wasn't alone ... no shit. Based on the roughness of the sheets it wasn't Ranger's bed. The bed was larger than a twin so I wasn't at my parents' house. The last plausible option was that I was at Ronny's in the guest room. I hoped that it was Woody in bed with me and not Ronny. I looked over and saw that my bed partner had short dark hair, definitely not Ronny.

"Woody. Woody. You need to let me up," I whispered. "I have to go to the bathroom."

The word 'bathroom' was magic. Immediately he rolled over and released me.

Dawn was breaking. The sky was still very dark but it was pretty. Not that I see all that many sunrises voluntarily. Usually I see the dawn when I am coming home after a stakeout or a trip to the emergency room.

I answered Mother Nature's call as quietly as I could; but there is nothing you can do to make a flushing toilet quiet. I tried to tame my hair with my hands and some water. I crept back into the room to find Woody sitting up looking very groggy.

"Hey. How are you doing?"

"Steph, I'm sorry. We didn't? I mean… I didn't? I, uh, you know?" he asked.

Good to know that I'm not the only one who's inarticulate in the morning.

I looked him in the eye and shook my head no.

"Positive?"

I nodded that I was certain. I had already taken inventory. I was still in last night's t-shirt and my panties. He was in a t-shirt and boxers. There was no evidence on the sheets to indicate bodily fluids. Plus I'd seen no condoms or wrappers on the floor or in the bathroom. I experienced no soreness between my legs. It was a pretty safe bet that we hadn't had sex.

"Thank god," he said. "No offense. What are you doing in my bed?"

"You fell asleep downstairs and I didn't want to wake you. I wasn't paying attention when you drove here so I had no idea how to tell someone where I was. When did you come in? Why did you come in?"

"3:00 I think was the time and this is where I sleep when I stay here."

Oh.

"I haven't done that in a long time," he said. "Fallen asleep when I've had a date, I mean."

I beg to differ. The last time we had dinner together you passed out. Wait a minute, he probably counts passing out separately from falling asleep.

"I can take this as an insult that you were really, really bored. Or I can take it as a really big compliment that you felt comfortable enough to let your guard down and sleep. For the sake of your future children, I'm going to go with the latter," I said.

He was taking an extreme interest in the condition of the blanket on the bed. It was as though he wanted to take all the pills off it with his fingers instead of talk to me.

I started again, "Early shift yesterday?"

"No. Didn't sleep well the night before. I was nervous."

"It's just me. Practice. Remember?" Jeesh.

"Yeah, but I get nervous a lot; this was like a dry run. If you can think of anything I could've done better, let me know. Next time it'll be better. I promise."

Next time?

He drove me home and I assured him my place would be secure against all comers. Neither of us noticed the black Porsche in the parking lot.

He kissed my cheek before I got out of the car and said, "Love ya, Steph."

"You too. Thanks Woody."

xx

I dropped some hamster pellets in Rex's cage and promised him I'd clean it soon. I stripped off my clothes on the way to the bedroom. I was almost down to bare skin when I saw Ranger asleep on top of my bed.

Oh boy.

"Hey," I said. Sometimes I am so profound I impress even myself. "Want a blanket?" I highly doubted he was cold, he seldom if ever was. Besides he was fully dressed, except the shoes, but I needed something, anything to say to the man.

"Babe," he said as he opened his eyes looking for the clock. It was a little after o'dark thirty. Actually to me anything before about 10:00 a.m. is o'dark thirty.

"You're pretty early to go running," I said looking for some sweats to cover my naked legs.

"I'm too late again, typical for me," he mumbled. "Your car was here all night, but you weren't. Your GPS was here with your gun and your phone. Where were you?"

"I was Woody's practice date last night," I said looking for a sweatshirt. "You knew I was having dinner with him. We talked about it a couple of days ago." I still couldn't find any sweats to put on and was thinking a t-shirt with my panties would be more than enough.

"Were you his practice fuck, too?" he asked.

"OK, first, excuse me? And, second, what business is it of yours?" I wondered whether or not I could drag his ass to the car if I stun-gunned him at this very moment. Doubtful, and the stun-gun probably wasn't charged either.

"Right now it's not, but it should be."

What was going on with him now?

"Do you want me to tell you or do you want to create your own scenario? I get a lot more sex in your mind than I do in real life. I think I like your delusions better," I said not a little bitterly. I had been missing social orgasms in a big way and my water bill seemed to get higher each month.

He said, "I was worried."

"Nothing to be worried about," I said. "It was dinner and a movie. Then bed."

"Bed?" Ranger now sounded very awake.

"Woody fell asleep during the movie. He slept on the sofa," I said. He was there most of the night, so it wasn't technically a lie, was it? "And I slept in the guest room."

"And nothing?"

"Not that it is any of your business, but no. Nothing. You should know me better than that." I wanted to pace the room or kick him in the shins for accusing me of that, but was too tired and it would more likely wake me up than help me to sleep.

He looked at me and I looked at the bed. It was tempting. Actually killing Ranger for his presumptions was tempting, but the bed was even more tempting and the consequences not so dire.

"I don't have to be to work until 9:00. I deserve another hour and a half of shut eye," I said. "You can keep me company if you want, otherwise, lock the door behind you."

"Babe."

I looked at him. I reset the alarm and turned off the light. I turned back the covers and got in. He stayed where he was on top of the bed.

He mumbled, "She was gone and so were you. I can only have one of you gone at a time. It hurts too much to be completely alone." He rolled so he could face me but we maintained a barrier of blankets and sheets between us.

I wanted to be angry but I was too tired for the amount of energy that real anger required. I'd suspected someone else was in the wings but never had the courage to ask. It was time for me to grow a set, and start getting at least a few of my questions answered.

"Who was gone?" I asked. I knew I probably didn't want to hear the answer, but he seemed too tired to try to deceive me. Normally I would have rolled to my side so he could spoon with me, but I stayed on my back so I could watch him for signs of deception.

"The moon. Last night was the dark of the moon. The dark of my soul," he mumbled. "All the light in my life was missing, gone."

There was nothing to say to that.

"Like to know you're safe. Didn't know. Empty inside," he mumbled into my hair.

I couldn't do anything about it and didn't know what to make of it. I sighed, I knew he wanted to cuddle and it felt good when we did. I even held his hand in mine.

By the time the alarm went off, I was alone.

xx

I went to Fairy Godmother's to talk to Ronny when the store opened for business on Monday. I told him I wanted to talk about the moon. I figured he could tell me pretty much whatever I needed to know. I didn't know how to look this stuff up on the internet or at the library.

"Tell me, are some people heavily impacted by the moon?" I asked wandering around the books wondering how I might find a book on the lunar cycles or was it lunar psychos?

"Some people do certain things depending on the lunar cycle; rituals you might say. Even Mother Nature reacts. You know tides change. Some people say all the crazies are out. Why?" He was always tinkering with something behind the counter. Today he was putting essential oils into teenie, tiny bottles with great big numbers on the price tags.

"I've got a friend who seems to celebrate the full moon and when it is dark acts like his lover has left him. It is a little weird."

"What kinds of discussions have you been having with Woodrow?" he asked with a smile. He still was convinced that I was the one for Woody, or at least a likely one for him. I'm chalked it up to wishful thinking on his part.

"Woody? No, no discussions with Woody. This is someone else," I said opening one of the bottles sniffing it and quickly re-closing the bottle.

"Tell me what you've seen. Observed." He was scanning my face to see exactly what was going on, depending on what he saw the answer would be swayed. I don't think it was something he intentionally did, but I'd seen him do it on more than one occasion to clients.

"This guy took me to watch the full moon one night a while ago. He acted like he was comfortable in his own skin for the first time in a long time. The next morning it looked like someone had put new batteries in him."

"The fulfillment of the promise," he said like I'd asked what the date of Halloween was. To him the answer he gave me was just a fact; it was simple. It was so obvious to Ronny a five year old should have known the answer. Too bad I'm a lot older than five; life was easier at that age.

"Huh?"

I put my face in my hand and leaned over one of the jewelry counters. I had a feeling this was going to be long and boring; this was as comfy as I was going to get without a sofa and some popcorn.

"Some people watch the moon grow over the cycle and feel a sense of completion and fulfillment when it is full. It is like their lover has returned to them. They find peace, security, joy even love. They see it as a promise that has been fulfilled."

I thought he was done and was going to ask him something profound, but he just kept talking.

"When she goes dark, they feel that she is leaving them or has left their lives. They know the feeling won't last long, because she always returns. But it is as though they've been pushed aside for someone else. They feel weakened and out of control at that time."

People actually saw the moon as a lover? They were probably the same people made fun of my relationship with pastry.

"Then there are still others who feel incredibly strong at the dark of the moon. To them, a seed has been planted and they will be able to see the growth and development. They are almost saddened to feel the fullness of the moon because once she peaks or climaxes, she will begin to decline."

Great, not only was this long and boring but long and confusing. I had no idea to make of what he just said.

"What is it supposed to mean?" I asked hoping he'd cut to the freaking chase.

"Sweetie, it's up to you for your own determinations and interpretations."

Perfect. I'd rather have him spell things all the way out for me.

"Anything I can do for him other than drug him?"

"Be there. Support him. Don't judge him."

"Anything concrete?"

"Distract him. Sex is a good distraction, it works for me," he said with a broad smile and a wink.

Lord have mercy. He could be Lester's father. Wasn't he too old to think about sex anyway?

"Steph, you're too old to do it if that's what you believe. And I'm still up for it; no pun intended. Wanna find out for yourself?"

"No thanks."

"Thought as much. Let me know if you change your mind."

One of these days I was really going to regret my inability to keep my big mouth shut.

_A/N I sort of fell in love with Woody on his practice date. He's a good man who deserves to meet and fall in love with someone special. I hope she's in the cards for him._

_Thanks as always for reading and reviewing._


	14. Chapter 14

Nothing But Time On My Hands

**Warning: Contains religious and sexual themes; no graphic imagery or language. Those who are averse to religious views which are not Judeo-Christian in nature may choose not to read this chapter or the next. Woody has the right to honor his spirituality openly and freely; as he chooses not to judge others, please do not be harsh in your judgement of him.**

Standard disclaimer about a lack of permission, blah blah.

Thanks as always to the team of betas who have made this possible. A special thanks to Dove and Deb (windswept farms) for their pre-viewing this section and helping me keep it on track.

Nothing But Time On My Hands  
Chapter 14  
by Alfonsina

I went through some of the cards on the spinner while I was getting the store tidy for the next week. I found a design of a fairy I loved, she was complete with magic wand.

"Ronny, do you have a logo for the store?"

"We're pretty simple. The business cards just have a wand on them. Why?"

"I don't know. I kind of like this," I said showing him the card, "You could have this silk screened for shirts or business cards. It'd be great."

"I'll see if we can't arrange that. We need to have a more visual identity for the store. I know it's Woodrow's favorite, too."

xx

Ranger continued to break into my apartment with a regularity that was unusual even for him. The break-ins coincided with both the full and dark of the moon. All he seemed to want was to sleep with me. I didn't say anything about it; I enjoyed it for what it was and it was always peaceful and reverent. He came after I had gone to sleep and was gone like a puff of smoke long before the alarm ever went off. We never talked about why he came, why he left or even how long he stayed. I figured he'd tell me in his own time.

xx

The soulmate project had gotten only three new women during the month of April and again with no second dates. Woody wanted to give up and so did I. At least he said he would suspend the search for now, it would give me time to get some new candidates maybe from another town or county. At this rate we were going to have to go on a nationwide search soon, possibly even international.

The last week in April, Ranger asked me if I would go with him to the lake again for another full moon. It was getting a little warmer and according to him I wouldn't be so cold. Unfortunately he wanted to go the same night as the spring festival I was going attend with Woody.

"Sorry, Ranger. I'd love to, but I've got plans with Woody," I said.

"All day _and_ all night?" he asked.

"Definitely all day and maybe part of the night. He mentioned something about a bonfire and we might stick around for that," I said.

"Do you know anything about this festival, Babe?"

"We haven't talked about it since he asked me. He just said it was a May Day kind of a celebration, sounds like fun. He told me about a May pole dance and face painting booths; I was thinking that Val's girls might be the right age to go next year."

"I'd rather you not go," he said.

"Problem?"

"All I'm willing to say is I'd really rather you not go," he said. His words were calm and so was his voice, but there was a tense quality to the exchange that I couldn't put my finger on.

"Asking or telling Ranger? Woody and I made these plans weeks ago, it means a lot to him," I said.

"Babe."

"If you can't or won't give me a good reason, then I'm going," I said.

"Babe, please don't."

I didn't know what else to say, and obviously neither did he. For the first time I was going to ignore the 'please', get some more information and make up my own mind.

xx

After work, I went to the Wrong Number so I could talk to Woody. I got a pitcher of light beer and two glasses and waited for him to join me at the back booth. It wasn't really my kind of place, but it wasn't in the Burg, it was relatively cheap and nobody knew me there. For my purposes, it was perfect.

Woody sat across from me and poured himself a beer.

"What's up? It sounded important on the phone," he said.

"I don't know how important it is, but you might. Ranger doesn't want me to go with you next weekend to the festival," I said.

He looked down and said, "I see."

He took a sip of beer and looked at me.

"You see what? What's the big deal? It sounds like a good time to me," I said trying to smile but finding it hard to do. "Besides, it's important to you and I want to do what's important to you."

He smiled but kept his head down.

"Steph, you should probably know a little more about the festival. I haven't meant to keep it from you but I didn't know how to approach it," he said.

"Spit it out and we can work on the wording later," I said. I didn't always get the wording right so there was no reason to punish Woody for one of my own proclivities.

"Alright. It is a May Day festival but it is also called Beltane. Steph, it's a religious holiday for me," he said taking a gulp of the beer before him.

Huh? I looked at him to continue talking, but he didn't for quite a while. Finally I broke the silence, "So what religion is it that celebrates May Day?"

"Can we talk at your place? I'd rather do this in private," he said.

"What's wrong with here?"

"There are some things that I need to tell you that are sensitive. I think it would be best if we were some place private."

"Can we do this at your apartment?" I asked. It had been a while since I cleaned and I really didn't want him to see what a sty my place was.

"All the halls and doors are monitored at Rangeman, the walls are thin, we really won't have that much privacy and I don't want anyone to know how long you're there. This could be a while. Before you ask, we can't go to the store, Dad's teaching a class. And he's got a houseguest; she's in town getting ready for the festival."

"Don't want to sit in the car and hash it out?"

"No. I hate to push, but we need to do it at your place or do this another time when I know we won't be interrupted."

I was too nosy to want to wait, so I agreed to going to my apartment. He could just deal with the dust bunnies and the pile of dishes sitting in the sink. He was going there to talk to me and not critique my apartment, I guess we'll both have to deal.

xx

I grabbed a couple of cold bottles of water from the fridge. I wished it was beer, but the beer fairy was on strike this week. I did consider myself lucky, the grocery and bottled water fairy had come to visit. OK, so I helped the fairies do the shopping, but it was a smooth trip and I stayed under budget; therefore, the fairies helped. I'm probably spending too much time with Ronny if I've got fairies on the brain.

We settled on the sofa next to each other.

I took a long swig of my water and said, "We're here and it's as private as we're gonna get without a sound proof booth. Out with it, whatever it is."

"I've never had to have this conversation with anyone, Steph. I'm not good with words or how to bring up uncomfortable subjects," he said speaking slowly and deliberately, looking anywhere but at me. He took a sip of water and mumbled, "I'm wiccan."

I had no idea what he'd meant by what he said. He could've said he was a going to be the Tooth Fairy when he grew up for all I knew. I waited him out. One piece-of-really-good-cheese cake. Two pieces-of-really-good-cheese cake. Three pieces-of-really-good-cheese cake. …. Twenty-nine pieces-…

I was really pleased he finally said something because I was getting hungry counting.

"I'm a witch and so is my father. So was my mother. It's a big part of who I am," he said a little more clearly.

Wow. Well that explains some of the stuff in the store. I'd heard the word 'witch' but never heard the word 'wiccan' before.

"And this is a problem because?"

"It's not really a problem to me, but I'm cautious of who I tell. To a lot of people I'm what you might call in the 'broom closet'. I don't put on a big show about my religious preferences. I don't have funky bumper stickers on the back of my car that say things like 'my other car is a broom' or 'God is coming and boy is she pissed'. I don't talk about it openly with people I don't know very well. I pass for white bread, middle of the road, average Joe on the streets. I've been very private about this part of my life, it is very special to me."

"Still not really seeing a problem, Woody."

"It's an ancient religion and we have some really old traditions and rituals. We honor the feminine above all else. The Goddess with her consort are our highest authorities," he said.

"Keep going," I said. So he didn't follow a standard religion, who cared? He was a good man who treated people honestly and fairly; that was the most important thing in my book. A lot of dogmas were strange if you really looked at them and broke them down.

"For some specific, very important holidays, the rituals culminate in something that's called 'the great rite'. It's a way to bring the feminine and the masculine together," he said looking at his hands.

"Can we try English?"

"Sex, Steph. The great rite is sex. The spring festival of Beltane is a fertility rite," he blurted.

"I actually do understand sex, but I'm not seeing what this really means to me," I said as patiently as I could.

"If I take you with me and we go to the bonfire, people will assume that you have chosen me. They will also assume we'll honor the great rite at some point that night," he said.

Was he really saying what I thought he was saying? I was puzzled before but now I was getting pissed off; it was a slow build but I could see an explosion in the near future.

"I am not part of a coven right now. If I were part of a newer, less established coven, I'd likely be the high priest. I've got the skills, experience and training that are expected of that level, even though I'd be considered young for that responsibility. Anyway, as part of a coven, I would perform this ritual with the high priestess who is actually responsible for the ceremony. If I remain solitary, I can choose my own partner to complete the ritual."

"What? Weren't you going to tell me about this?" I all but shrieked. "You want me to go and witness a public sex act? That is what you are getting at, isn't it?"

"Not exactly. There are some rituals where the male and female are represented by a chalice and athame, it's a kind of a ceremonial knife, and that is the center of the public rite, it is symbolic of the female and male joining. This group does a symbolic representation, not the actual physical act. Some covens are more open and, yes, there would be a ritual sexual act in those circumstances, but that is not always the rule. Things tend to vary from coven to coven."

"But they're still going to think I'm going to _do you?_" I was all but screaming when I said it. I was embarrassed but thought he should be, too. "Do you expect me to _do you that night? You do, don't you?"_

"No. And those aren't exactly the words I would use. You've spent too much time with Lester and Brett," he said and then he took a swig of water. "Pretty much everyone who attends as a 'couple' is anticipating sex that night, and no, not with an audience. But Beltane festivals are known to have pretty highly charged atmospheres, there's sexual energy everywhere.

"And no I really hadn't planned to tell you all of this. I hadn't even considered completing the rite with you. OK hoping a little, but not really. I didn't think you'd find out so it wasn't going to be an issue. I was going to skip the bonfire part of the festival and just to the daytime stuff with you."

OK, so maybe he wasn't trying to set me up. Crap, he was still talking.

"I was still kind of hoping we might find someone I had chemistry with and was dating. I know you don't feel any chemistry with me, but I'm really beginning to feel it with you, I wasn't going to put you in an awkward position, I swear."

Terrific. I actually had been starting to feel that tingle when I was with Woody but had been suppressing it pretty well. I liked where things were and didn't really want any change in the status quo. Why did life have to get complicated just when stuff was getting comfortable?

I had quit listening and suddenly realized he was still talking because I saw his lips moving.

"…You know, let nature just kind of play its course," he said. "I wasn't trying to manipulate you; I just didn't know how to have this conversation. I'm not expecting you to have sex with me that night or ever. I'm sorry."

"I like you a lot as a friend. You're comfortable and we have a good time together. And yes, we've got an attraction, but not enough for that." Not yet, but damn I was getting close. "Sex for me isn't a casual thing; it needs to mean something, be part of a commitment. I've done the whole casual sex thing; I feel used afterwards even if I was fully aware of the consequences at the beginning. Besides, I'm not a witch or whatever so I'm sure I wouldn't be a good choice anyway."

"Let me explain a little about the rite to you, sex on that night is kind of like a prayer. It's more than what you think, it's actually incredibly reverent and beautiful. The man puts the woman on a pedestal and worships the Goddess in her: body, mind and soul. Her pleasure is first and foremost. In the end there would be penetration for the ultimate in bonding and hopefully a shared climax," he said softly. "I try to provide as much pleasure as my partner wants, in whatever form she chooses, for as long as she wants. Any pleasure I get is secondary to hers."

Being the object of worship didn't sound too bad, but this is Woody. Woody hadn't starred in that many of my shower fantasies. Ok. So he'd been staring in more of them lately, but this was just weird. I was way out of my depth.

"Everything would change for me afterwards, you know that," I said. "I'm not up for a bad 'morning after', been there and done that."

He picked up my hand and said, "For the record, it would change everything for me, too. There aren't a lot of men who practice the Craft. Those who do, and are unmarried and willing are in high demand during the Sabbats, our holidays. Some people who couple strictly for ritual and are able to leave it at that and not get involved emotionally. But usually even ritual coupling leads to more for both participants."

I dropped his hand at some point and started to pick at the label on the bottle of water. I had been the one who'd wanted to know what was going on. I should at least be pleased he was actually telling me something.

He went on, "If I could remain detached and strictly see it as a ritual, I could guarantee getting laid at least twenty times a year. A lot of guys do, but the women always seem to get hurt in the end. That's why I haven't taken anyone with me to a festival or a bonfire for several years."

Ok. So he's not a floosey or a man-whore or whatever it is that Lester and Brett seemed to be. This is a really big deal to him, special.

"I take the Goddess very seriously and if, and it's a big if here Steph, we were to couple at some point down the road, I'd want to maintain that relationship. It's not something I can be casual about either. I promise there would be no bad morning after; it would be an awesome beginning for us both. I already love you; it wouldn't take much for me to fall _in love_ with you. I need for you to know that."

Oh God. Or is that 'oh Goddess' now? He's looking at a potential future, with me. Shit.

"Woody, I don't know that I'm the right long term partner for you. This might ruin what we do have. Sounds like if things go further I'd have to convert and all sorts of other stuff. This doesn't sound like a great idea," I said.

"I'm sorry I wasn't up front about this earlier. Really I am. Now that you know, will you still go to the daytime events with me? I want to spend the day with someone I've got a connection with," he said.

Wow. "You can accept daytime only? You've given me a lot of stuff to digest."

"I can accept that," he said.

There was a lot to think about and it might just change the course of my entire life.

xx

After Woody left, I called Ranger. I was passed pissed at him. He knew. That son of a bitch knew and didn't tell me. Not one word.

I wasted no time on preliminaries. "How long have you known Woody was a witch?" I asked Ranger.

"Since his initial background check. He listed it as his religion on his military records. It's never been a secret. We just don't talk about it."

"Did you know about his Beltane festival?"

"Yes."

"And you know what it means? What it signifies?"

"Yes."

I looked at the phone wishing I could see his face.

"I read Stephanie. I wanted more information when I hired him so I went to the library and looked it up."

"So you knew it was a fertility rite and you didn't say anything to me?"

"No. It was something that should have come from him."

"But still," I started.

"No. Your friend, teacher, or whatever you are to each other. It was his responsibility to tell you. Not mine."

"I'm going," I said quietly. I didn't realize I was committed until the words left my lips.

"I thought you might."

"I'm not planning to go through with anything other than the daytime stuff."

"You may change your mind; there's a lot of sexual energy at those things. Prepare that it could. Be relieved if it doesn't. Hell, be disappointed if it doesn't. Enjoy it if it does. Just don't regret your decision."

"What about …" I was saying when he stopped me.

"I really need to go. I can't talk about this with you any more."

"But..."

"You're a big girl. You can make your own decisions. I know you will make the right decision if and when the time comes. But I really can't talk about it any more. You want to talk about it; I suggest you talk to Woody. Or you can just stay home."

"Ranger," I said. I was going to say more but he stopped me.

"Stephanie, I have no hold over you. I have no claim. Just like you have no claim on me," he said.

The self-proclaimed opportunist had never taken any opportunities with me and I wanted him to. I really did. I felt like I was being handed over to Morelli all over again, except now it was Woody and nobody'd had sex. I felt hollow and empty; it felt like this was somehow my fault.

xx

I didn't sleep for two nights but it felt like two months. I paced. I watched bad movies. I ate ice cream. I stewed over my choices, the good and the bad. I avoided Connie and Lula, they would've known just by looking at me that something was happening. I even looked into my heart to see what I wanted. What I wanted was to talk to Woody. It was the only fair way for things to go forward.

He met me at my desk after he got off his shift.

"Ready to talk?" he asked. He knew I wasn't done with the conversation from the other night.

I nodded. We walked to the elevator in silence; he had his hand around my waist keeping me close.

I don't know who was more nervous, him or me.

He didn't want to have this conversation in his apartment, but it had advantages for me. First I had recently decorated my living room in a pile of laundry that needed to be folded and I hadn't tended to it yet. Second, because the halls and doors of the Haywood apartments were monitored I could guarantee a relatively short evening. Third, I'd never been there and wanted to know how he lived. Was he neat? Was he a slob? Was his place decorated in chrome and leather? Was it lived in? Did he really mold those anatomically correct candles here? Did he display stuff like that? Were there great secrets yet undiscovered? Was I just blowing everything out of proportion?

Turned out that Woody's apartment was pretty normal. It had some wood surfaces and some bookcases with a lot of music CDs and other stuff on them. If you didn't look at the titles on the books, you'd never figure out he wasn't 'typical' Merry Man. Not a lot of Merry Men read Starhawk, Lynn Grabhorn or Depak Chopra.

How do I start an uncomfortable conversation? Well, usually I avoid it at all costs. When I can't avoid it anymore and I know my mouth will over-run things, I just spill it and get it all out on the table. That's me, the verbal bull in the proverbial china closet.

We sat next to each other on the sofa. He laid his arm was across the back of it and my head was on his shoulder. I wanted to be close to talk, but I didn't want to look at him; it made it more awkward for me.

I've never had a really frank discussion with anyone about sex. I was raised in an old-fashioned Catholic home. Sex was hidden and the only evidence of whether or not you had ever had it was in the number of children you had. I had an aunt and uncle who never had any kids; growing up I figured they'd just never had sex.

Well, that's not entirely true. My girlfriends and I had shared our intimate secrets over the years, but it had been a long time. I had no secrets. I guess that was my big secret.

It's not like I was a virgin, I'd been married. I'd had a couple of what I thought could've been serious relationships that didn't last. I'd been with Morelli. Hell, I'd even been with Ranger, but compared to him I was a rank amateur. In some regards I was glad it was just once with Ranger; I'd used all the good stuff I knew how to do that night and hadn't learned or experienced anything new since then. Despite all of this experience, it just wasn't something I spent a lot of time talking about, especially before something happened. Usually I rehashed bad experiences and dissected them with girlfriends long after the fact, definitely not the same as a pre-emptive conversation.

Woody was raised in a completely different culture. Sex wasn't hidden, bad or negative in any way. He couldn't understand why I'd find a conversation about it difficult. For him it was something natural and you could be open and honest about it. That alone proved he wasn't really Burg material.

"Woody, I've thought about it. A lot," I said. "I'm still a little wigged out about the whole Beltane great rite thing. I want to go with you but I don't want to be with you, are you good with that?"

"I'll do whatever it takes to keep you comfortable," he said. "You set the boundaries and the limits. I'll honor them."

I knew they weren't hollow words trying to make me feel better until I changed my mind. He was sincere. He was always sincere.

Finally Woody started to talk and it wasn't what I'd expected. I was expecting 'let's be friends' and basically a whole glossing over of the sex thing. It wasn't. It was all about sex, him and me.

"I know you aren't prepared for completion of the ritual," he said.

Well why don't you just say what's on your mind, jeesh?

"Will you let me offer you some release that night? Please? You won't be expected to reciprocate," he said. "It would be one way I can fulfill the rite."

I knew this was no game, there was no pretense and I knew it was a genuine offer, but I wasn't ready for this kind of honesty. I might never be ready for this kind of honesty.

"No. I'd rather be pent up and frustrated," I said.

"Why?"

"Because once I get to that place," I said. I paused to make sure I was still breathing before I attempted to go on. "I forget everything and I lose my inhibitions, all my inhibitions. I would probably beg you to complete the act." And probably multiple times in multiple different positions.

"I wouldn't mind," he said.

He smiled; I could hear it in his voice. He wasn't making light of what I'd said. I could feel it in his body language. I wished I had the courage to look him in the eyes, but I wasn't ready for that yet. This experience really would be all about me if I let anything happen.

"Look, an orgasm for me when it is just for me is wonderful but it feels like a hollow victory, I said. I'd feel guilty that I hadn't done my part, that I was disappointing my partner somehow. "It's just not enough for me, I'd feel even worse than if it were a one night stand. I can't ask someone to slake his own pleasure and provide mine. I just can't do it. All that pent up sexual frustration and energy you've been sensing from me is going to have to remain pent up."

He looked at me and said nothing. Finally he said, "Steph."

"No Woody, don't start. I can't go down that path with you right now and maybe not ever. If you accept my terms, I'll go with you to the festival and maybe even part of the bonfire but I can't help you finish the rite," I said.

"I wish you'd let me convince you otherwise," he said. Damn if he wasn't being sincere again.

"You probably could which is why I don't want you to even try," I said.

"Are you sure?" he asked. He turned so I could see him and said, "I promise I won't even try to change your mind."

"Thank you," I said.

I crawled into his lap so he could hold me. I felt warm, loved and safe. Too bad I didn't feel _in love_, this would have been so much easier.

A couple of hours later, he walked me down to my car in the garage, kissed me good night and told me he loved me. I knew big brother was watching in the control room. I hoped the audio portion of the recording had been turned down and wasn't going to create even more problems for me in the near future.

_A/N: It has taken a lot of courage for Woody to leave the broom closet. Please don't make him feel like it was a bad decision for him to come out to the world._


	15. Chapter 15

Nothing But Time On My Hands

**Warning: Contains religious and sexual themes; no graphic imagery or language. Those who are averse to religious views which are not Judeo-Christian in nature may choose not to read this chapter. Woody has the right to honor his spirituality openly and freely; as he chooses not to judge others, please do not be harsh in your judgement of him.**

Standard disclaimer about a lack of permission, blah blah.

Thanks as always to the team of betas (Bluz, CS Katie, Deb, Deb, Jaime and Melody) who have made this possible. A special thanks to Deb (windswept farms) for their pre-viewing this section and helping me keep it on track.

**Nothing But Time On My Hands  
Chapter 15  
by Alfonsina**

Ranger didn't ask whether or not I was going to go with Woody to the Beltane festival. If nothing else, Ranger seemed to be actively avoiding any contact with me. Everywhere I went, he wasn't. You'd think I had cooties or something. I couldn't tell if he was angry, jealous or a mixture of both. It probably didn't really matter anyway.

He was a big boy. If he wanted to talk to me, he knew where I was and who I was with most of the time. He couldn't be bothered to take the time to even say 'hello' anymore, not even in meetings. It reminded me of being in third grade and making a very conscious decision to NOT talk to the boy next to you, that's how it felt anyway.

I used to dream of someday. I even put off some decisions hoping for someday to happen. The ubiquitous someday was never going to come with Ranger; if it finally did we'd both be old and grey. At least I'd be old and grey and more than a little bit flabby, and he'd probably have silver hair and still look incredibly sexy. Why is it that men get dignified as they age and women just get old? Anyway, the sooner I dealt with the lack of someday, the better off I was going to be. It was sad, but it was my reality.

xx

The morning of the festival arrived and I was beyond nervous. I still hadn't made any real decisions what I was going to do or how far I would go. I'd told Woody I wouldn't, but I craved the closeness and needed it on multiple levels. I might just encourage it to happen. Who was I kidding, I was planning on seducing him before the end of the night. I decided to be like any old Girl Scout and prepared, so I bought some condoms, better to be safe, right? I even wondered how much it would take to convince us both it was the right thing to do.

Lately I'd been feeling both vulnerable and cared about when I was with Woody; it was a bad combination for me. That recipe wound up in getting me married once and moved me into Joe's house on more than one occasion. I didn't think I'd have any regrets this time. I hoped not, but the answer would be presented sooner rather than later.

I decided to keep with the same for the festival look I usually wore when I worked at Fairy Godmother's: loose top, jeans, flats and French braid. It seemed like I had more stones in my bra than breast. I'd started quite a collection and decided to use them all. I'd begun to think of gemstones as a kind of astral version of mascara. I had so many stones in my bra that I was afraid that it would take days to weeks to have all the dents work themselves out of my flesh. I quit counting when I surpassed fifteen stones. If Woody got enough courage to try to cop a feel in public, he'd feel more rocks than breast; might just serve him right or he'd be very pleased and proud.

Woody was dressed the same way he was the first day we spent together in the store, complete with what I thought of as his peek-a-boo jeans, I loved watching his ass in those jeans. Now you can see my plaid boxers, now you can't; it was more entertaining than anything that had been on TV for years. Oh and he had on a new shirt that advertised the store. The shirt looked to be painted on and was as much advertising Woody's fabulous form as it was the store. It would have looked too tight on someone who wasn't in amazing shape like Woody, but if he sneezed hard he might break a seam. I might just get another good look at that chest if he did, I really hoped the pollen count was going to be high and his allergies would act up later.

Oh yeah, back to the shirt. Evidently Ronny and Woody had decided to get a mascot or logo of sorts and it was going to get a debut at the festival. They'd chosen one of the fairies with a magic wand that had been on a card Ronny was selling. The motto was:

_Fairy Godmother's Closet.  
Where the magick is alive.  
Your one stop spell shop._

Woody wanted the day to feel like a date so we held hands, laughed and exchanged the odd kiss. For the most part the kisses were chaste. The ones that weren't were pretty amazing but I could tell he was holding back, for that matter so was I.

I knew that Ranger wasn't going to be part of the festival in any way, shape or form. But I kept expecting him to show up. Maybe that's why Woody was a little hesitant and not giving me his all. Maybe it was why I was, too.

We'd been there a couple of hours wandering, eating, sharing a soda. It was nice and very normal. I don't know what I'd been expecting, maybe a bunch of people in robes or people doing strange things to and with each other. It was a very family atmosphere. I definitely thought that other than the bonfire part Val's kids would do well to be exposed to this next year.

We were splitting a lunch at a picnic table when a young woman tapped Woody on the back and said, "You're wearing my shirt. I mean, I silk-screened that shirt. This is so exciting. I've always wanted to see someone wearing my designs. You've just made one of my dreams come true!"

He looked at her and nodded. It was as if the boy had been struck mute. I'd never seen him with a girl who wasn't Connie, Lula or me; I mean outside of a restaurant. He really did have a problem talking to girls. No wonder he'd wanted help and practice with dating.

I said, "Hey, you're the one who created all the cards for the store."

She nodded but wasn't looking at me, her eyes were transfixed on Woody. It reminded me of a movie where star-crossed lovers meet after a long time apart. This wasn't a movie, this was real life and to my knowledge they'd never met. I was here with the leading man and his potential leading lady; it was time to reclaim my role as matchmaker and introduce the couple to each other.

"You do some great stuff. By the way I'm Stephanie and this is Woody. And you are?"

"Morgan. Morgan Avalon. I've got to get back to my booth. I'm doing caricatures of people today. Nice to meet you and your boyfriend," she said over her shoulder.

I started to say, "He's not my boyfriend," but she was already gone. I could've left her with the misconception, but karmically knew it wasn't right.

It looked like my plans on seducing Woody had just been cancelled. It was like being on an overbooked flight at the airport; I had the ticket, the destination, the determination and now I'd just been bumped and I had nowhere to go. I knew it was for the best, but I was still disappointed.

"You OK Woody? Cat got your tongue?"

"I've seen her before, I can just feel it. I think she's the one who's been in my dreams. I think she might be the one."

Who knew? He was finally ready and looked like she may have appeared. Looked like I wouldn't be seducing Woody after all, this is what happens when I choose not to decide; I have to accept what others want or decide for me.

Eventually he uttered a couple more words. "More than this," he said.

"More than what?"

"It is actually the name of a song from vintage album by Roxy Music, my mom played it so much they bought it again when it went on CD. The song is haunting and has been playing in my dreams. The name of the album is _Avalon_."

Maybe the gods were in their heavens and all would be right in the world, at least in Woody's world.

xx

We wandered some more and Woody had his cards done by three different readers. The Devil came up in each of his readings. Some people saw the Devil as being a bad card, but the way that Woody interpreted it was sex; plain and simple, truly incredibly hot and heavy. One of the readers saw the card and said to Woody, "So you are going to be doing the evil, wicked mean and nasty soon?"

"Actually hoping for the good, perfect and amazing," he said with a dreamy smile.

At this point he would be applying that description and that beautiful smile to someone else, which left me with conflicted feelings.

Someone who did psychic readings told him, "You've met your soulmate, it's been worth the wait. You know who she is now." Then the psychic looked at me and said, "I'm sorry to say, but you aren't the one. You are close and you would have great happiness together, but you aren't his destined match."

Even though it was how I felt, it stung just a little and it was my own fault. I'd all but thrown Woody away.

I'd started to realize through this soulmate project that I wanted to be special to someone, I finally realized I wanted it to be my turn. It felt like the longest day of the year since we'd run into Morgan, Woody was now completely star gazed. It got me thinking about exactly how long it'd been since I'd felt well and truly loved, cherished. That kind of love in my life had only come from my grandfather. It had been complete, total, unconditional and it was a distant memory. I wanted that feeling again, but with a romantic partner and not a member of the geriatric set; I knew it was a long way in the future. All in all, my feelings made me want a great big doughnut or several small ones.

"Do you want a reading?" she asked.

"No thanks. I'd rather not know. With my luck it'll all be bad and I don't need that right now," I said. "Besides, I've nothing of value to exchange right now."

"You know better than that," Woody said only hearing the words but not noticing my despair.

I shook my head. I didn't want anyone to look closely at me and see the pain that was beginning to bubble to the surface.

"If you change your mind, let me know. I'll be here for the Samhain festival. But you'll know by then," she said.

Know what by when? Was I coming back? When was Samhain? What was Samhain? Would I still be in the role of 'friend' or would I have found somebody? If I wasn't careful, my head was going to explode with the unasked and unanswered questions.

"Oh and you are better than you think you are. Believe in yourself, other people do," the psychic said as I was leaving.

Lovely.

Woody wanted to look for Morgan's booth, so we did. She had some great samples of her work on display. It was a lot like the stuff that Ronny bought for the store, but this was bigger and more detailed. From the brochures she left on the table, she did custom works, murals, frescos and projects on commission. Pretty good for someone who looked to be about eighteen.

Every time we passed her booth, no one was there. It seemed to be the luck of the Irish. Woody didn't have Ranger's timing at all. Ranger would've spotted her at 300 yards in the middle of a crowd and made a bee line before she could get away. Woody would see a glimpse from 15 feet and she'd be gone. It was almost like she was a fairy with wings the way she could just disappear whenever he got close to her.

xx

By the peak of the afternoon, I knew I wouldn't stay for the bonfire. I'd say yes to something more than I could handle, not that he'd even offer now. Yes, he was a man I already cared about, more than I wanted to admit, but the voice in my head wouldn't let me move forward with him. I felt frozen in place afraid to go forward and unable to go back. I was the epitome of the deer in headlights.

When we got back to my apartment, he wanted to complete the rite with me the only way he knew I would let him and we could both accept.

He consecrated the apartment, sealed and blessed it. He led me to the bedroom and just held me. It was quiet and respectful; for me, it was perfect. I am sure it left him frustrated, but he did say it was all about the woman.

After about half an hour he left. He could still be a part of the group ritual and he needed to do that for himself. He said it fed his soul.

Besides Woody deserved a chance to explore a future with someone who would love him and accept him at all levels. By leaving he had a chance to do exactly that. I could only wish him well.

xx

Before I even got to work Monday a bouquet of assorted flowers were on my desk with a card that said:

_You will always be my goddess.  
I can't remember a better Beltane.  
Love you,_

_W_

I kept the card with the flowers, the two items made me smile and that was something I'd been in short supply of since Saturday. I'd ended my pity party on Sunday night; I didn't like those things to go on for too long, they could become a habit.

When we got together for lunch in the break room I asked him, "How was the rest of it?"

"Amazing. Absolutely amazing."

Good. I think.

"I think she's really the one. I am a little afraid, but I can deal."

A man who spent six years in the Marines is afraid of a girl?

"Did you get a chance to talk to her?"

"Not much. But I was near her. It was enough. Her energy is amazing. I was buzzing just by being near her."

"So, she might be it?"

"Oh yeah. I don't think I ever did thank you for all the practice and all the women."

"None of them worked out."

"Exactly. They were perfect."

"Nut. If they were so perfect, why weren't any of them the one?"

"They showed me what I liked and what I didn't. What I could and couldn't accept. So when I saw her, I saw all of her beauty inside and out."

She looked kind of plain to me. Who am I to judge? I live with a hamster and he's the longest relationship I've ever had.

"You know, I know you don't believe me. But you really are a goddess. This was probably the best Beltane in my life. I love you," he said and he kissed me on the cheek.

"I love you too, now go get some bad guys. Be safe."

He saluted me and left.

I neatened the kitchen and headed back to my desk when I saw Ranger. He looked like his best friend died.

"You OK Ranger?"

"Sure. I'm happy for you. Woody's a good man."

Where was this coming from? Why would he be happy for me? He'd known Woody longer and better than I ever had so this comment was coming out of left field.

"I know he's a good man. You are a good man, too. You only employ good men. Must be on the application somewhere."

Later when I was at my cube I could tell someone had been there and opened the card on the flowers. I should have expected it, but figured if anyone would have read the card it would be Lester or Hal. Obviously it had been Ranger who cast himself in the role of Nosy Nancy, he got what he deserved if he read my card.

I knew nothing was going on with Woody and Woody knew that but Ranger didn't. Ranger was acting hurt and a little jealous. Well let him be jealous of nothing. He got jealous for no reason before and didn't want to believe me, so why should I try to explain it to him now? He'd been a pompous ass recently and if he was uncomfortable for a couple of days, so be it. He'd figure it out sooner than later.

xx

Woody used the excuse of needing more merchandise for the store to call Morgan that same afternoon. I was there for moral support when he made the phone call, I think he was a little afraid he wouldn't be able to say anything to her if she answered. They talked and made a date to meet at the store to discuss about what was selling and what wasn't.

Over time they even started to go some of the same places he and I had gone to 'debrief' after the initial dates. Woody hadn't been kidding when he said he liked to have a dry run for his dates first. She was like me. She liked the frozen yogurt better than the bike ride and soda better than tea. She didn't have a thing for shoes and she was far more creative than I ever thought about being, so at least she wasn't a clone or anything weird like that.

While I was pleased for Woody, I was cranky with myself. He was getting the things he wanted, the things he'd openly asked for and I was getting nothing and nowhere. He'd showed courage to do what he was afraid of, and I waited in the shadows to let the Universe make up my decisions for me. I'd asked for nothing and got exactly that. I thought I knew what I wanted and was even more afraid of getting what I wanted than remaining alone.

xx

"So," I said fidgeting in the front seat of the SUV.

"So," came the placid voice.

I looked at my hands and started again, "So."

"I think we've got that part covered, Babe," Ranger said.

I'd rehearsed this conversation in my mind and it wasn't going according to the script I'd so carefully drafted. At this rate I'd be lucky if he'd just keep tolerating me like he had been lately.

"Do you wanna talk about anything?" I asked. This had been another long and boring stakeout and I didn't think I'd make the next three and a half hours saying and doing nothing.

"Not big on talking, Babe."

Yeah, I'd kind of noticed that. I was trying my best to break the ice with him and he was doing his Jack Frost impression. This conversation really wasn't going like I'd planned.

How did I want it to go?

"_Are we ever going to be friends again?" I asked. "You've been distant lately. I feel like I'm losing you."_

"_We'll always be friends," he said._

"_But," I said._

"_Nothing will ever hurt our friendship. Strain it maybe, but never hurt it enough to end it," he said looking at me._

"_Sure?" I asked willing him to look at me._

"_Positive," he said with a smile._

That was definitely not the conversation we'd just had.

"Do you want to do anything?" I asked.

"Doing it now," he said looking at me. "Work. Remember?"

I hadn't grown three heads, but sure felt that way. In fact, I was finding the air between us to be so murky and heavy it was hard to breathe.

After about an hour of mind and butt numbing inactivity finally the silence was broken and not by me.

"How's Woody?" he asked.

"Why? You see him more than I do," I said. "Is there something I should know about?"

"No. I just wanted your perspective."

"He's the same he always is. Good natured and nice," I said wondering what was behind the current conversation. "Can I read your palm now? No one is on this stakeout but us. No one can listen in. I've gotten pretty good."

He looked at me and shook his head minutely. Great I was never going to see his hand. Them that don't ask, don't get as Grandma used to say. I kept asking, but I don't think I was ever going to get to the getting part.

xx

Woody set me up so I could start doing readings on the guys and/or their girlfriends at various places around town. I no longer needed him to go with me and he now had evening plans of his own. I could've done all the readings at the store, but that would've conflicted with job schedules.

I wasn't feeling abundantly secure in my new role as a soloist, so instead of taking monetary fee I chose to be reimbursed with meals out. I tended to choose small diners and other eateries and let the guys pay for dinner.

For me, it wasn't a bad strategy. I got dinner paid for three times or more a week. I went places I wouldn't normally go by myself. It limited the number of meals I'd need to mooch from my family. Plus it made it look like I was desirable company and I needed to feel desirable.

Grandma used to say the best way to get a man's attention was to be on the arm of a different man. It wasn't working for me, not really. My phone rang on the 'just friends' ring tone, but better friends than being alone.

When Brett wanted me to read his palm all by myself, to see if I'd gotten better, I almost did it. When the word 'where' came out of my mouth, his face was flooded with lust. It was then I found out that he wanted me to read him at Dominoes' Strip Club; not an experience I was really open to sharing with him. If he would have recommended some place a little less risqué, I might have done it. He told me he thought I had an open mind, evidently Brett thought an open mind was interchangeable for open legs.


	16. Chapter 16

All the standard disclaimers apply, no permission, no money, blah blah blah blah blah.

To the betas (Bluz, CSKatie, Deb and Deb, and of course Meldoy) who have kept my head in the story when I've been out looking for hunky men for this story, I'd like to thank you.

**Nothing But Time On My Hands  
Chapter 16  
by Alfonsina**

Late May

I had had my fill for the day of files from Rodriguez. It seemed the more I got done and the faster I did it, the more files wandered over to my inbox. The flood of work made me want to cause a deliberate work slow down some days. Too bad it wasn't even noon yet, I was in dire need of a breather.

I stretched as I wandered to the break room. I was pretty much not paying any attention to who and what was around me. I was oblivious because I was on a mission for junk food. At least I know my priorities. I wanted something, no make that anything, pre-processed with lots of sugar and fat.

The break room being devoid of potential witnesses, I decided to scrounge around in the back of the fridge to find my cache of chocolate Pop Tarts. I'd killed off my stash of butterscotch krimpetts yesterday and my sweet tooth was getting the better of me. I didn't care that commercial pastries weren't on the approved list. Ella was the only one who cleaned the fridge, and I, to my knowledge, was the only one who hid anything in it. What Ranger and the diet police didn't know wasn't going to hurt them.

I'd been taking yoga twice a week from Junior. Who knew Howdy Doody would be a great yoga teacher? For such a big guy, he could sure get his body into some interesting positions. Besides, I could take the class without leaving the building and not get too sweaty. Plus it did great things for my stomach muscles and my flexibility. Anyway, instead of bending at the knees to do my dig, I bent almost all the way over and leaned into the fridge to get them.

"Nice assets," came the voice. It was Zip.

"Want me to grab anything for you?" I asked trying to remain civil.

"Nope. I just want to know how long you can hold that position before you get light headed so I can plan ahead."

"Zip you are an ass, a real jerk. Some days you are an absolute son of a …

"Babe." That was the next sound I heard.

"Want anything from the fridge before I back out, Ranger?" I asked trying to keep my voice civil. I was still peeved at Zip.

"How about four bottles of water?" he said. I could almost hear a smile in his voice, but not quite.

"Four? Thirsty today?"

"No, but you are drawing quite the audience, I figure we could all use one."

Ranger was being almost fun and flirty. He hadn't been either one in what felt like months. It was odd. It was nice. It was over almost as soon as it started.

I retreated from the fridge, bottles in hand and Pop Tart, still wrapped, in my mouth. I started to pass the water out when I noticed someone new. That was when my tongue got tied and almost caused me to drop the precious pastry.

Well, hello nurse. If I could make the wolf whistle noise I would. Ok, so I work in an office of beefcake all day long. After a while you quit noticing that they're there and quite how handsome they really are. It's kind of like not noticing how dirty your car is until someone writes 'wash me' in the dirt on the windshield.

When the fog lifted, I realized he wasn't dressed in standard Rangeman black. He had on khakis, great dress shoes, a button down that looked like it was as soft as Ranger's sheets. If he was new, he didn't know the rules about clothing yet or else Ella hadn't ordered his uniforms.

What did he look like? It looked like God held nothing back when he made this magnificent creature. This guy looked approachable in an 'oh my god am I dreaming' kind of a way. You know, piercing green eyes, amazing smile, incredible torso and yes, the ass looked like you could bounce quarters off of it. The ass thing had to be part of the job application, I was sure I saw it somewhere, all the guys had tushies perfect for coin bouncing. The only two exceptions to that particular rule were Ella and me. Thank God for rules, exceptions to the rules, and employment applications. Actually, he looked kind of like one of the trainers on that show on BravoTV, Greg Plitt. (/models/gregplitt/pic2.shtml)

"Babe, I'd like to introduce you to Mike Jamison."

"Hi," I said after I took the chocolate Pop Tart out of my mouth and divested myself of the rest of the bottles. I was afraid to say anything else for fear of drooling in front of an audience. It was never a problem at home in front of the TV, but the TV couldn't look back at you and make you uncomfortable for staring.

"Babe, you're with Mike at 1:30 in Bobby's office," he said.

"Great. See you then," I said.

"I'm looking forward to it," Mike said.

Why on earth would I have an appointment in Bobby's office with the new guy? I couldn't remember doing a background check on him. I didn't remember seeing any new anything with his name on it. I was thinking about this on my way to my cube when I heard Slick and Cal complaining.

"Every quarter from now on, can you believe it?" Slick asked.

"It's not like you've got to pay for it," Cal said.

"Yeah, but come on. Why would Ranger suddenly start to require quarterlies? I thought the semi-annual was bad enough."

I got myself planted firmly between them and said, "What's the matter guys? Has Ranger started to require you to qualify on the range more frequently?"

I was feeling smug and superior. As part time, I didn't think these things would pertain to me. Besides, I'd talked Ranger out of my last range qualification no problem.

"Man, if it was just the range, it'd be easy. We can probably qualify with our eyes closed," Slick said.

"Probably, but it does make it harder to identify your target that way," Cal said.

"I wasn't being literal, fool."

"Sorry," Cal said.

"So why are you both so upset?" I asked the pair.

"Medical exams are now quarterly for anybody who does any kind of fieldwork. Boss's orders, no exceptions. Every exam is complete with blood work, each time."

"That must suck for you," I said.

"You aren't off the hook, Steph. It goes for you too. They've even brought in a specialist for lady stuff," Cal said. Cal wasn't a man with an overly abundant vocabulary.

Lady stuff? I thought. No problem I'd been to the ob/gyn a while ago and gotten a clean bill of health. I wouldn't have to do the pelvic, no reason. Should be the easiest exam of my adult life.

"They're all _complete_ physicals, Steph," Slick said.

"Shit," I said. It was the only word that came to mind. I hated exams plenty but the blood work even more, if that were at all possible.

"I hope he's an old codger," I said. Actually I wasn't in love with the idea of anyone looking up there. The last thing I wanted was to have a handsome man looking at all of those things without the prospect of dinner and a movie.

"Well, mine was old," Slick said.

"So was mine," Cal said.

"How many doctors did they bring in anyway?"

"Who knows? Like I said, I heard they brought in a special one just for you."

"So long as he's old and he has warm hands," I said.

I really needed to check my calendar on Outlook more often. I couldn't for the life of me remember this being part of today's agenda. Then again, I rarely had anything on my Rangeman agenda except the yoga class and range practice and those were at set times each week.

At 1:15 I went down the hall to the offices Bobby used as exam rooms. Several of the guys were there looking…well I'd say disgruntled, but it wasn't quite that bad … they were more like, oh I don't know, gruntled.

I checked in for my appointment with Bobby and found a magazine. It was the latest edition of Handloader. All the issues of Guns and Ammo and Small Arms Review were already being drooled over. Bobby never did understand the importance of a magazine as banal as Reader's Digest … I was going to have to see if I could even buy some old copies for the waiting area so I'd have something to read when waiting for my wound checks.

At precisely 1:30 one of the three exam room doors opened and I was summoned. The nurse, who looked like a kinder gentler version of my mother, took my vitals and handed me a cloth gown. Kind of nice, it wasn't the disposable paper kind.

"Now dear, take everything off and make sure the gown opens in the front," she said.

"No. I get to keep my panties and my bra and the gown opens in the back. They always open in the back unless you are going to have a breast exam or a …" I was saying as my voice got softer and weaker. It was then that I realized I was going to have a complete gynecological exam including breast exam with the ever popular pelvic.

"I just did this with my regular ob a couple of months ago. If I sign a release we can avoid this part, right?"

"I can contact the doctor's office."

I gave her the name. She left, probably to make the phone call.

"I'm sorry dear, your last exam was sixteen months ago. You would be due anyway. According to the contract, everyone must have a complete exam once every quarter. Now I'll leave so you can put on your gown and get ready for the doctor."

This was not how it was supposed to go. This was supposed to be

1. How are you feeling?

2. Breathe deeply like an obscene phone caller for me.

2. Open your mouth and say 'chocolate'.

This wasn't supposed to be the dreaded 'exam'. Eww. I hated those. It was one of the many reasons I never went on birth control pills with Morelli; if I had it was a guaranteed once per year. If we used condoms I could stretch time between gynecological exams as long as possible.

"There's been a mistake," I started to say.

"No mistake dear. The doctor's a busy man, now get yourself changed and I'll knock to make sure you're decent."

Oh God.

I took off my uniform, folded it and put it on the chair. I unhooked the bra and pulled it off when there was a horrible sound on the floor. I'd forgotten that I had been putting some of the gemstones in my bra on a regular basis. I normally unloaded my bra over the bed and put the stones in a special box every night. It was routine. Only I wasn't in my regular routine, so stones went flying all over the room, especially the hematite I used to ground myself.

It sounded like someone had dropped a bag of marbles from about four feet. This was just what I needed. Not. I folded the bra and added it to the pile and then did the same with my panties. I put on the dreaded gown and faced the opening the direction the nurse wanted me to, and started to look for the stones on the exam room floor. Good thing the damned gown was loose and I could crouch without exposing too much of myself to the room.

There was a knock on the door. I was hunkered on the floor still trying to gather my stones when I called out, "I'm decent, but watch your step." The door opened and in walked the heavenly hottie who'd been in the break room earlier.

Mary, Jesus and Joseph.

"Stephanie Plum? I'm Mike Jamison," the beautiful, built, smiling creature said holding out his hand. Oh shit.

I closed my eyes and blew out a breath. My right hand had over half of my stones and the left was partially filled. I put the stones on the only flat surface in the room that wasn't the exam table, and shook his hand.

"I was told you'd be interesting," he said.

"I was hoping you would be old," I said wanting to say a great deal more than that, but knowing it would sound like whining.

"Just how old do you want me to be?" he asked with a smile. Shit, he was sounding like Lester.

"Is the ink on your license dry? Have you been through your internships and residencies? Are you really sure you want to do this? Don't you have a better way to spend your afternoon?"

"Let's see. Yes, the ink on the license is dry and has been for several years. I've been through all the residencies and rotations for the specialty. I have canceled all the other appointments that were previously booked to conduct this exam, so yes I really want to do this," he said looking like I'd tested his patience just a little.

"But," I began again.

"No. _We_ are doing this my way," he said. "Let's go over your history before we do the actual exam."

I didn't think I was going to live through this. This was a man I could easily have built some shower massager fantasies around before I knew he was my doctor. Eww. You aren't supposed to have cute doctors much less be attracted to them. I mean you can't play doctor with your doctor; that's just wrong.

It's so much easier for me when they look like old trolls. I know they've seen thousands of whatever I've got, both a lot better and a lot worse, so I won't stand out. Nothing of mine would be burned into his brain, but he was burned into mine and in a big way. How would I face him if I ran into him at the grocery store in the middle of the night?

"Can't you just look this up in Bobby's files?"

"I can, but I'd rather ask you. You are pretty interesting and incredibly good at stalling," he said.

Oh brother.

So we talked about all the childhood diseases, shots, illnesses: nothing major, pretty typical stuff. Questions about surgeries and/or hospitalizations? There were none unless you counted the stuff that was work related. He thought that was interesting. He asked about locations of stitches, gun shot wounds, knife wounds, etc. and was going to take a closer look at those when the time came.

Then he wanted to talk about my sex life and my form of birth control.

"Is that really necessary?" I asked.

"Well, I don't need your entire sexual history, but you are going to get screened for the major diseases including AIDS. Plus birth control may or may not impact other medications you might need to take. Some antibiotics impact the effectiveness of certain birth control pills, so we will need to talk about it."

He was surprised when I told him that my form of birth control at the moment was none. It's not like I was living up to old Motown and the Exciters song Tell Him. I know some things about love, you know like if you want him you should just go out and get him? Besides in my life I'd never really experienced true love, my life was complicated enough with the relationships that I had already.

"You are smarter than that, Stephanie. You are in a dangerous line of business. You should know better than take those kinds of risks."

"Not taking a risk," I said simply.

"Of course you are. Unless your husband …" he said. I shook my head. "Your boyfriend …" I shook my head. "Casual encounters …" I shook yet again, unless I regained power of speech I was going to knock something loose. "You didn't say anything about tubal ligation in your medical history, so you must be taking a risk unless… Are you a lesbian?"

I couldn't help myself, I snorted twice. An attractive noise I know, but sometimes things just happen.

"Oh God no. I am not now, nor have I ever been a lesbian. Not that there's anything wrong with that. As for husbands, haven't had one in six or seven years. Last boyfriend moved away eight or nine months ago and we were fighting the last two months, so I've been celibate for, oh I don't know, about forever. I don't do casual sex. See? Birth control really isn't an issue."

"It should be. You are young, healthy and attractive," he was starting to say.

The blush was rising on my cheeks. "Nope. Nobody in the wings and nobody on the horizon. Besides, ask any of the guys here, I'm not big on remembering things. They take spare guns on stakeouts just for me. So birth control pills are probably not a great choice."

Was there anything else I could say to stall this man?

He made a couple of notes on his clipboard and I could tell he was just waiting me out.

"You have other options," he said.

"Yeah, but I'm not really comfortable talking with you about this subject on Ranger's dime. I mean he wants an exam for his insurance. Fine we can do that. But the whole 'well woman' thing with the discussion of my options just doesn't feel kosher. You know?"

"Let's talk about it anyway," he said. "It's part of the standard exam. I might have options you haven't thought about before. No judgments, just information."

I thought back to my last medical exam, the doctor had been nice enough but he'd reminded me of Grandpa Jones from HeeHaw. We'd talked only about three minutes before he got tired. That experience was over as soon as it started and I was good with that. (content./main/content/wp/en/thumb/2/2e/230px-GrandpaJonesalbum.jpg)

The future? I knew I didn't want kids now, but I didn't want to exclude them forever. I wanted to keep my options open. I also knew that I didn't want to continue to rely on condoms. From the standpoint of sexually transmitted diseases I fully supported condom use. They were fine and worked as an initial form of birth control, but they left me feeling, I don't know, transient some how. Then again, I never really knew quite how faithful Morelli ever was so I never voiced that concern with him and we just kept using them.

We talked about choices, prices, reversibility and the fact that I'd likely be celibate for a while. Probably forever at this rate, but fate did have a way of stepping in and mucking with my life.

Pills were great but you had to remember to take them.

The patch was good, but why subject your body to it if you didn't need it? Besides the places that it was supposed to go got exposed a lot during distractions and that was too much information for my skips.

Shots? No thanks. I don't like to sew with needles much less get stuck with one on a regular basis. Besides, it was something else to remember and if I had to remember something it might be forgotten.

In the end, I decided I wanted an IUD. I wouldn't feel it, I could be spontaneous if and when the time ever came again. I mean I'd done enough things on the standard "Catholic Girls Shouldn't List" that I'd probably be on the shit list in Rome anyway, so what's one more thing? Plus it could be removed at a future date, should I decide that was what I wanted to do.

I'd taken as much of his time as I possibly could talking, stalling, and even limited flirting when he asked me the 'get out of jail free card' question.

"So when was your last period?" he asked.

"Started yesterday," I said. "Why?"

"I'm going to need to schedule the rest of the exam for after you've finished your cycle. I won't be able to see much," he said.

Yes! Somebody upstairs liked me, at least today.

"It never occurred to me," I said. Honestly it hadn't, but I'd gotten a reprieve no matter how minor and that was what mattered at the moment.

"While you get dressed, I'll talk to the nurse about getting you scheduled to finish the exam," he said. "You know, if you are looking for someone to set you up, I have some single friends who you might find interesting."

"Thanks, it's a really great offer, but I'll pass for right now," I said.

Lovely, I'd just done this for Woody and now the Universe wanted to see the favor returned. I really wasn't up for debriefing with this guy after each potential date; how weird would that be? Besides, I had some ideas of what he'd look like debriefed and if my fantasies were close to reality, I'd definitely need to get a new doctor. (images./imgres?imgurl/wp-content/uploads/2008/02/022208g.jpg&imgrefurl/?m200802&h716&w450&sz32&hlen&start13&sig2EYmgHHzYazsbz044WcUGmA&um1&tbnid6BnuqlcUywKbpM:&tbnh140&tbnw88&eiTltsSPzkG4mwedKutNgC&prev/images?qgreg+plitt&um1&hlen&saN)

"If you change your mind, let me know," he said.

He left and I got dressed. I was about to leave the reception area when I heard my name called. It was the doctor.

"Stephanie," he said. "Are you free next Wednesday? Around 4:00?"

"Should be good," I said.

"It's a date. See you next week," he said.

I did the finger wave as I was walking backwards down the hallway to the cubicle farm I called home two days a week.

"Babe," came the familiar word from the familiar source. "Walk with me."

Honestly I never heard him, saw him or felt him.

Great. What had I done now?

I followed his lead and was headed straight for his office.

He shut the door behind us. I sat on the chair in front of the desk. He was behind it. I was going through my list of current potential fuck ups and was coming up empty. I hadn't given anyone else a Pop Tart. Grandma hadn't shown up again, had she? I made sure not to wear a Wonder Bra to work. My undies didn't show when I bent over and I made a point of not bending over, well not much anyway.

"Babe," he said, "do you remember our conversation not that long ago?"

Just what I needed, a pop quiz. New mental list: always follow the gun safety rules; always carry ammo that fits your weapon, not the weapon you think you might have in your purse; turn down the volume of the radio in the SUV before turning the vehicle off; and no extended lunches with Lula that wound up at the shoe department at Macy's. Oh yeah, I couldn't expense all of my make-up purchases as needed for distractions and it wasn't part of the uniform. What else could it be?

"The one about love connections ringing any bells?" he asked.

"What? Grandma hasn't been here except that once. Besides she's had a steady man for a whole week," I said. Grandma was doing better than me, but she was trying harder to find someone. Actually she was trying anyone who seemed like they might be willing and possibly able.

"You. I'm talking about you," he said. "Couldn't Woody keep up? Are you going to go through the roster and anyone else who shows up here?"

"What the hell are you going on about?" I asked. I wasn't with Woody or with anybody else. I'd just had the opportunity for a fix-up which I'd turned down, but based on Ranger's response you'd think I dating the seventh fleet. I was confused, hurt and in the express lane for pissed off.

We entered a short stare down. I knew he was going to win. He always won. I counted one 'pompous-prick-who's-minding-my business', two 'pompous-prick-who's-minding-my business', three 'pompous-prick-who's-minding-my business'. Yep, I got to three, just like the number of licks to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop.

"Explain," I said. I didn't want to say too much. He knew which direction this conversation was headed and I was still looking for the freeway on-ramp.

"Mike Jamison," was all the answer I got.

"What about Dr. Jamison?"

"You made a date with him," he said.

"Yes, to finish my exam. It couldn't be completed today," I said. Again, what the hell was his problem?

"Weren't all the tools there? He was expected to bring everything he needed. He was supposed to …"

"Not that it's any of your damn business; it would've been nice if my body had cooperated about the appointment Ranger. I got my period. You can't have a pelvic that way. Not a pap smear anyway," I said. "And a pap is a part of the complete woman's physical, or so I've been lead to believe."

"But I heard you say 'date'," he said.

"Yeah, as in I needed to be rescheduled. You know, to finish the exam. What did you think? Maybe that I was flirting with him while I had my feet in those things?" I said. Eww. I'm sure it happened to Dr. Jamison a lot, but not from me. I couldn't do it no matter how hot he was, it was just creepy. The limited flirting we did was while everyone was pretty much clothed and we were both sitting down. "If I didn't know better I'd think you were trying to find out about my sex life," I said.

He said nothing, but was looking down at his hands and wouldn't raise his eyes to meet mine. The silence, all four seconds of it, was absolutely deafening.

"You were. You bastard. You inflicted exams on all the guys and me so you might find out about my sex life. If you want to know that badly, I can make a couple of phone calls and start a parade for you so you can inspect all of them. Better yet, I can address an e-mail to all of them and copy you and the entire office in on it."

"That's not what I meant," he bit out.

"It's what you are implying, isn't it? You seem to be confusing the character that you have me portray in distractions for who I really am. Well, you know what? The only thing stopping me from walking out right now is the medical plan. When I talked to the doctor I realized how much it would cost me if I lost my insurance," I said.

"Stephanie," he began again.

"I'm so not dealing with you right now. I'm out of here for the rest of the week," I said.

I got up from the chair and went to the door. I knew that there would be an audience, there usually was. Normally they were trying to figure out if Ranger and I had done it on the desk in his office; they were always disappointed when there were no tell tale signs of extra-curricular activity. It seemed like everyone who wasn't in an exam room was in front of Ranger's door trying to look like they had a reason to be there.

Lovely. I decided what the fuck? I was past the point of caring and didn't give a God damn about the consequences. I made sure the door to Ranger's office remained open. Let's give him the parade he's wanted to see.

I stood on top of the closest chair and raised my voice. "Gentlemen. May I have your attention please?"

The din in the office dropped off immediately. It wasn't absolutely silent, but pretty damned close.

"Thank you. Now you know and I know about the betting pools. They seem to cover everything from the cars, the level of garbage, and how long a distraction will take. Then there is one you don't think I am aware of. Yes, the one about my sex life. Now by a show of hands, I would like anyone in the room I have ever kissed for any reason, birthday, distraction, or any other occasion, to raise your hand."

Two hands went up, Tank and Woody. I asked them to lower their hands.

"Now, how many of you have I gone to dinner with in the last month?"

Ten hands went up.

"If I read your palm during that dinner, please lower your hand."

All the hands went down except for Woody's.

"Thank you. I would like anyone in the room I have ever slept with, biblically or otherwise, to raise their hand," I said.

Woody's hand went up along with about half of the room.

"Now if I fell asleep in your vehicle during a stakeout, please lower your hand."

Woody's hand was the only one remaining in the air.

"Woody, do you have a girlfriend?"

"Yes."

"Am I your girlfriend?"

"No."

"Didn't think so. Last I heard Morgan was, but I wanted to be sure. Now, would you mind telling these lovely people exactly how many times we've slept together?"

"I'd rather not," he said. I loved that he wanted to be a gentleman, but that wasn't going to serve my purpose. "It isn't their concern. We are both adults and should have our privacy respected."

"Woody, I'm asking you to kiss and tell. If you don't I will, and I think you have more credibility. Go ahead and give them the details, I'm good with it. Evidently the betting books need to be closed for _everyone's_ benefit."

"Twice. Once when I got drunk at dinner with your family, I crashed on your bed. I think you were on the sofa. The other time I fell asleep on the sofa when we were watching a movie," he said quietly.

"Now, will you kindly state the exact number of times you and I have engaged in sexual activity?"

"No. I'd rather not."

"I know you want to be chivalrous, but now is not the time or place. How many times have we had sex?"

"We have never had sex," he said.

"Thank you. You may all go back to whatever you were doing," I said.

Everyone scattered except for Woody and Tank.

I walked myself back to my desk, retrieved my purse and emptied it of Rangeman contents. I removed the cuffs, the GPS, the company issued firearm, spare magazine, the key fob that gave me access to the building and my company issued cell phone.

I opened my desk drawer and pulled out my spare uniform shirt and pants. I hadn't had time to put them in Ranger's closet.

I logged off the computer. I smiled at Tank and he nodded back to me.

"Tank, I don't think I'll be needing these things for a while, maybe not ever again," I said quietly. "Can Woody give me a ride? I drove a Rangeman vehicle today and I can't justify putting any more miles on it," I said quietly.

"Not a problem," Tank said. "Call me when you are ready to either come back or just need to talk. We'll work something out."

We were almost to the elevator when I heard the breaking of glass and Tank's voice bellowing, "Jesus Christ, Ranger. What exactly did you say to her?"

I'm sure the tirade went on longer, but I no longer cared, I just wanted to go home. The elevator doors opened. We stepped inside. The doors closed. I started to cry.

Asshole.

A/N: Ranger's head has been without sunshine for quite some little bit of time. It'll be interesting to see if he's actually capable of pulling it out. If he does, I wonder how loud that sound will be.


	17. Chapter 17

Nothing But Time On My Hands

Standard disclaimers, blah, blah.

Thanks as always to the beautiful betas for keeping me in line and on task: Bluzkat, CSKatie, Deb B, Deborah, Melody

**Nothing But Time On My Hands**

**Chapter 17**

**by Alfonsina**

Woody made sure I had food in the fridge enough to hold me for a couple of days. He even ordered a pizza for me so it would be ready when I was. That was when I kicked him out. He had his own life and I'd imposed on him enough for one day, maybe even enough for a lifetime.

I checked my machine and had a message. I decided to be adult and listen to it now opposed to later, never would have been better, but I decided to get it over and done with. The message was from Ranger and the voice was incredibly low and soft. It was the same voice I used when I forgot my mother's birthday one year; it sounded sorrowful and repentant. Probably he wasn't but it sounded that way.

"I set up the exams for everyone because there've been a lot of accidents lately. Plus my new insurance carrier made me require it of everyone as part of the new policy. They want baselines for all the field employees and regular reports.

"I'm sorry you thought I was invading your privacy, you should know me better than that. There's a reason health care has privacy laws protecting your information. Your privacy should be protected. I'd never violate that. I heard the word 'date' and I admit I did get jealous. Will you come back so we can talk?"

Nope. Not doing it. No way. No how. Nuh-uh. I had humiliated myself for no good reason and _he_ acted like a jerk. Actually, he'd been acting like a jerk for quite some time; not to mention the blowing hot and cold every twenty minutes. There was no way on God's green earth was I going to go back there right now. The talk would need to die down first. Then again, if I waited for all the talk to die down, it might be years before I could stick my head inside the building and I still needed to earn a living.

I was pretty sure that I had done the right thing by leaving for the rest of the afternoon or week or however long I'd be gone. According to my palm, I would take shit from people pretty much forever, you know kind of like feeding a fire, but when I blew my fuse it was big and bad. My palm also showed that after I totally lost my grip and exploded all over everything, I normally have a feeling of calm that hadn't existed before. Kind of like a big pot of spaghetti water that takes a long time to come to a boil and then boils out all over the stove top and down the front of the oven until there's almost no water left - that was me when I finally expressed my anger. The incident at the office had definitely qualified for both big and bad. All I had to do now was wait for the calm to come over me, but it wasn't coming very quickly on its own.

What I needed was some one-on-one time with my two favorite guys. I turned off my personal cell phone and my answering machine, picked up my keys and a five spot from my wallet and walked to the local mini-mart to buy a pint of Ben and Jerry's ice cream.

When I got home I saw a note taped to the door. This was new for me and for him, evidently the man was trying to respect my privacy.

It said:

_Stephanie,_

_Talk to me, please._

_You have my numbers._

_R_

Either he was really sorry or he wanted me to feel like I had some control. At least he wasn't sitting inside my apartment waiting for me to come home.

Lovely, something else to ignore and deny. Maybe if I ignored the calories in the Carmel Sutra ice cream the calories wouldn't go straight to my ass, either.

I settled down on the sofa, just me, the boys and a large spoon. I wondered if my little speech put an end to the betting pools. Who was I kidding? This just ratcheted it up a notch; more likely several notches. What would the new hot topics of the betting pools were going to be? They were probably checking the PMS charts and wondering when the next explosion would come. I wondered if they had a chart of which planets were in retrograde? Ronny checked that chart all the time and kept blaming things on Mars. Question was whose explosions were they going to be betting on and how soon would it be before it happened?

The morning of the second day there were several things I couldn't do and people I'd need to avoid.

1. I couldn't stand the idea of a showdown with Connie and Lula and besides, I wasn't feeling calm enough to go to Vinnie's to pick up any files.

2. I couldn't talk to my mother; she'd have a major hissy fit over the fact 'I'd just thrown away my future in that company'. At least it wouldn't be a tantrum over the idea that 'I'd just thrown away another perfectly good relationship'.

3. I couldn't talk to Val because she'd never lost her temper in a big way; at least not so anyone would know.

4. I couldn't tell Mary Lou; she'd support anything I had to say. Unconditional support, even in the throes of stupidity, was in her best friend contract. Plus Mary Lou couldn't be neutral and see any side other than mine.

I wanted a third party who supported me but could also see another side with a degree of objectivity. It took me to a place I never would have thought I'd have gone to six months before. I went to see Ronny at Fairy Godmother's.

I talked to Ronny briefly on the phone and he recommended having one of his healers to balance my chakras. She happened to be available. She was a specialist in all things that ailed the lovelorn, at least according to Ronny.

I drove to the store and followed him into the backroom. There was a little massage table that was used for all sorts of things, usually to sort clutter and junk mail. The room wasn't elaborate or exotic, but I knew the space well and felt comfortable there.

I'd never met or worked with Marsha before. I found out later from Ronny she was trained in all sorts of things but liked to work when it pleased her and on the people who suited her. She pretty much came and went as the wind blew. She was in her late 50s and looked like she could fit in pretty well to the Burg ... nothing too unusual about her and nothing too esoteric, until you talked to her.

"Before we get started, how long have you been this way?" she asked.

"What way?" I was afraid to say too much, I felt like she could look inside of me and knew exactly who I was and what I was made from. At the same time she felt incredibly safe. It was as if she could only do things out of or based on love.

"All torn up like you've maxed out all of your credit cards and now you see the perfect dress and shoes on sale and you can't afford to buy them?"

"That's pretty much all the time. I live pretty close to the vest." I was trying to keep things light. I felt like it would be easy to let all of my emotion just spill out all over the floor and possibly drown this kind woman and myself in the process.

"No. I mean like you've just been disappointed in someone or something in a way you never expected to happen. Tell Marsha all about it," she said.

She referred to herself in third person, was she the queen or something? I decided to overlook this trait, there was far worse in my family. I then recounted the blow up at the office in minimal detail.

"He got involved in your personal life for no good reason," she said. "But this is older than that. It feels a lot older and it feels a lot deeper. This wound is going to take a lot to heal."

"Well as my boss, he sort of has to be involved in my business. I mean he's entitled to know the general condition of my health," I said.

"We both know that's not what this is about."

I agreed but didn't say much.

"It's not just about your health or your sex life. Not unless the two of you … but you aren't are you?" she asked. She didn't have to complete the sentence, 'Not unless the two of you are lovers, but you aren't are you?' We both knew that she knew what was going on and what had already happened.

I shook my head.

"It's more than that with both of you, isn't it?

I nodded my head. One of these days I was going to become a bobble head doll. Wonder if I'll be worth anything on E-Bay that way?

"And you'd like it to be different?"

I nodded, again.

"Was it ever what you wanted it to be?"

"Sort of, but not really. It was one night out of a fantasy. Once I got past the nervousness of it actually happening, it was perfection. The next day was my personal tragedy; it was as though I should just be tossed away. I was devastated at first but decided to pretend it had never happened. Going on as usual was easier than confronting the emotions."

"Baby, I don't know what is worse, pining for what you ain't never had or suffering for the lack of getting just a taste. I tell you that as a diabetic, I'd be so much happier never having known the glory that is a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup; the diabetic imitation crap they have that is 'just like it' is a pale replacement. But I still crave the real thing and pray that some day I can have that original, luscious, salty, sweet goodness again."

OK. Maybe she did know.

I told her a little about Joe, my family, the guilt and the expectations. How my perceptions had been changing since I'd started to read palms. I wasn't over the guilt part, but I was starting to get over the need to live up to someone else's expectations.

I thought about her analogy of sex and desire. Kisses and candy. Ranger's kisses alone were like Marsha's version Peanut Butter Cups. But the one time when it was more, it was like mainlining good Swiss chocolate' nothing else existed until it was over. When it was over, all that remained was the crash from the once incredible sugar high and the ache of knowing that nothing else would ever be as good.

Fear and guilt had prevented me from pursuing more of what we'd had that night. I didn't think that anything would ever come close to that night. I initially lived in fear of becoming addicted to the feelings he elicited from my body and guilty that I would go to any lengths to recapture it, so I stored it away for my own most private fantasies. Avoiding Ranger kept me from losing myself, or so I thought.

"Now baby, how was he with you being in the relationship with the other man?"

"He ignored Joe mostly and stole kisses when he could and when I let him. In a lot of ways I ignored Joe, too. Joe wanted me to be someone else, which is why we never advanced to 'Final Jeopardy'. If only ..." I started.

"You can't go down the road of if only, baby. If only doesn't exist. You can't un-ring a bell and you can't unsay what you've said or undo what you've done. You can only go on from here. I can help you do that, but your mind has got to be open."

There was a lot of 'open minded' stuff in this store. Fine. Whatever. I could do it if she could.

"Get on the table now face down. Don't you worry your head about one damned thing. Marsha's gonna take care of you," she said.

She did. For an hour or more I was face down on a table, covered in blankets with stones put various places and hands on others. By the time she was done, I felt like I could breathe on my own again for the first time in days.

"What do I owe you?" I asked wondering if I had any money in my checking account.

"Not a penny. You will have to keep doing palms at the store, for which you will be paid. Ronny said you've been good for business and good things happen when you're here. Besides, I've got a homework project for you."

It was nice to hear that I was good for somebody's business.

Homework? What did she mean by that? I'd seen some of the things people were 'assigned' to do as homework by both Woody and Ronny. Some of those people spent up to one hundred dollars just to get all the stuff to do whatever it was they were going to do. Some of what they were told to do was out and out weird, at least to me. It made me think of the flowers and the goodie bag that Ronny had me take to Woody a lifetime ago, I wondered if I could afford to do homework.

"Now what I want for you to do is think about the things you have done in this life that have made you happy. Think about the people, places and circumstances that have brought you joy. Right now it may not feel like there is a lot there, but I want you to start to see joy and wonder in everything. Don't do big, you couldn't see big right now if you had to. Do the little stuff, the small everyday things. I get great joy in not getting parking tickets downtown. Every time I see my windshield without a ticket, my heart fills with joy and appreciation."

"That's it? You want me to think?" This I might just be able to do and this I could definitely afford.

"For today. Tomorrow I want you to write down five things that make you feel happy or that give you joy. Day after I want you to write down ten. Soon you'll come back in and we'll talk about the next step."

I was getting ready to leave when Woody came into the store.

"Marsha, when did you blow into town?" he asked kissing the woman on her cheek.

"Sugar, I got here today. I heard last week I was needed and I came as soon as I could."

"Dad called you?"

"Nobody phoned me, you know me better than that. I just hear the call and I don't have a choice but to answer. I've done it for you and your father often enough. I must be here for her, she needs me," she said looking at me. She looked at Woody before she said, "By the way, when do I meet her? I already approve."

What was going on?

"Morgan doesn't spend a lot of time in the store, Marsha."

"That's no excuse for not letting me meet the girl. Her energy is all over you and all over this store. If she is half as good as the energy she's raising for you, then she is the one."

"Yes ma'am. I will have her report to you as soon as she possibly can."

"Baby, I will see you in a couple of days," she said to me. Looking at Woody she said, "Sugar, I'll be at the house when she's ready, send her on by herself. You don't need to be her bodyguard."

She left and the energy around the whole store changed. Everything became quiet and calm.

I wondered what had just happened. All I knew for sure was that in a few days I was coming back to talk to this strange yet comforting woman.

"Woody, who was that?" I asked.

"Marsha," he said. He said it just like everyone knew that water was wet. I'm not dense, I just had no idea who she was.

"She's one of my sisters," Ronny said from the front of the store. What was with men and ESP anyway? "She's sort of like Mary Poppins. She comes to town depending on how the wind is blowing. She always shows up when someone in the family needs her. I didn't think I was due. She must be looking in on Woodrow's new lady. She tends to leave when she feels her work is done."

Ok then. I looked for something I could do to be productive and decided there wasn't much, so I prepared to leave.

"I need to get to the bonds office and see if they've got any files for me," I said as I was getting ready to walk out the door.

"Steph, somebody called to make an appointment for a palm reading tomorrow. Can you be here at 3:00?" Ronny asked.

"Will do," I said. Cool. I could use the extra money.

"Steph, don't worry about running into Ranger for a while. He's in the wind again," Woody said.

Of course he was. Seemed that whenever anything happened, good or bad, he would go into the wind. How convenient for him to be able to become the Invisible Man. Was it work related? Was he going to learn some way to make me disappear? Or was he going to go work on his tan? I hoped his mood would be improved before the next time I saw him.

"See you soon, love you guys," I said as I closed the door behind me.

xx

Lula and Connie actually gave me some space when I went to the bonds office. They told me that before Ranger blew out of town he made it abundantly clear they were to mind their own business; if I wanted to talk I could but it had to be my choice. They were to respect my privacy. Apparently, they had to respect my privacy because he wasn't able to do himself.

I showed up with a bag of gourmet chocolate chip cookies and a package of Reese's Peanut Butter Cups.

"Share," Lula said to me, indicating with her head that she wanted some of my chocolate.

"I'm sharing the cookies. The Reese's are for me," I said.

"But you know it's my favorite," she said.

"Lula, they're all your favorite. Besides, you didn't call in a request. Next time I'll know. But today, I need to appreciate these for what they are. It's homework, sort of."

"You taking another of those funky classes down at the store again?" Connie asked.

Just because I'd taken a class in divination using special mirrors didn't mean it was a funky class. The store sold the mirrors and I was there a lot. It was good to know what some of the merchandise did. It wasn't like I had taken the class in how to use oils to heighten awareness or the one on which herbs gave better dreams. Though since I'd started putting cobalt under my pillow, I could remember my dreams more easily. OK, so it wasn't typical stuff for the Burg, it was interesting and kept me from thinking about my love life or lack thereof.

"Nope, not right now. I am working with someone who wants me to think about the happy and joyful things and people in my life."

"Of course you thought about me and Connie first. Right?" Lula asked.

Some days I was better at diplomacy than tact. Today I was actually both, I was proud of me.

"I decided to start with things that make me happy. I've never had a bad experience with chocolate. I figured I would work up to people gradually, seeing there are so many of them," I said. Most people left me with conflicted feelings about both them and me, so it was better not to go there for the time being.

Lula nodded. Seemed she was doing her impression of me.

"Six files for you, mostly regulars. Two of them you got to get in by tomorrow or we forfeit the bond," Connie said as she handed me the stack. Normally I would've had more time, it was my own fault for not coming in to pick the files up earlier. Oh well.

I signed for the files and looked at the reports that Connie had already run. They didn't look complex enough for me to need to use the programs at Rangeman. I was glad of that and it was something else I could be grateful for, not bad.

xx

The first of the two that had to come in was Alan Pastor. Seemed that Alan got tired of waiting at the DMV to get his license renewed. He'd been waiting for 55 minutes when his bladder went off and his number was called while he was in the john. The person responsible for the tickets didn't see a problem with Alan waiting another 55 minutes for his next number to come up.

Alan took his number from the machine and left. He came back in from the parking lot with a tire iron. He beat the snot out of the ticket machine and scared the wits out of the staff who didn't seem to understand the concept of customer service.

After sitting and waiting for Alan for three hours, he finally left his place of work for lunch. I tried to convince him how easy it would be to go with me so he could be re-bonded. He didn't want to see my point of view, nor did he want to spend any more time with the local civil servants. He was finding the less civil he was to them, the less civil they were to him.

We tussled, some, but not too much and not too severely. I got away without anything ripped or torn. He went to the station with only minor cuts and a couple of bruises from tripping over my shoelaces. I really was going to need to look into Velcro fasteners on my shoes.

I wasn't hassled too badly at the cop shop. It was something else to put on my gratitude list.

xx

The next day, I followed Lily Rose around Trenton for about two hours. She was the new drag queen at the Liberty Ballroom. In stocking feet she was 5'11" and about 180 pounds. Lily worked a day job as an interior designer under the name of Terri Sanders. He was a plain man but gorgeous as a woman; I'd seen the pictures. As Lily Rose, she was prettier than I ever thought of being on my best day with my best hair. It's not that I'm jealous, but some of the best-looking women I've ever known have been men.

Terri had hit hard times. His income wasn't keeping up with his outflow. He had an absolutely incredible dress being altered for the Closet Queen Contest he'd orchestrated. It was a contest for all the men who liked to dress in drag but had never done it in public to have their chance. If a man had ever once appeared in public in drag, he didn't qualify. The winner got a five hundred dollar gift certificate at the mall, not store specific.

As the contest's brainchild, Terri had to look good and the boutique was holding the dress hostage for the cost of those alterations. At least that was how he described it. When the store wouldn't release his dress without proper remuneration, he tried three more times. With the contest was fast approaching, he broke into the shop in the middle of the night, re-arranged everything, left a note on how to get a better traffic flow, wrote down floral and paint recommendations and took his dress. He thought that he had done them a service that more than adequately paid for the cost of altering his gown. The storeowner didn't feel that way, he pressed charges.

I caught up with Terri when he was leaving his gym. I figured he'd be tired from working out. He wasn't. He could out distance me, based on leg length alone. He wasn't too far ahead of me when I decided to slow him down with the only distance weapon I had at my disposal, my purse. I pretended I was a discus thrower and took aim and heaved it. It hit him in the back of the head. He stumbled and fell on his hands and knees.

"Bitch. I broke a nail. Now I'm going to have to have them all done again in time for the contest," he screamed at me. "And I don't have time to waste in the salon."

I was pleased that the skip had taken the brunt of the bruising this time and not me. I actually looked pretty nice, until my pants snagged on the door of the car. Well at least I had gotten smarter and was now buying my most of my work pants at the second hand store.

I was through at the cop shop when I looked at my watch. There was no way I was going to make my palm reading appointment on time. I called Ronny so he could let my appointment know I would be about ten minutes late.

I finally got the car parked and arrived at the store, when I called, "Sorry I'm late. I'm ..." I was about to say "Stephanie" to complete my introduction.

Ronny said, "The appointment hasn't shown up yet, but a bouquet of flowers did with a card."

The card was addressed to:

The Palmist

C/o Fairy Godmother's Closet

Trenton, NJ

I looked at the daisies, purple hyacinths, magenta zinnias and striped carnations like they were going to come to life and bite me. I was so not up to a challenge. Work-wise and stalker-wise things had been going so well lately. This was making me nervous and in a big, bad way.

I borrowed the phone and called Tank.

"Yo," came the voice.

"Yo yourself. It's Steph," I said.

"What's up? Do you need muscle?"

"Not exactly. I think I need for you to come check something out."

I gave Tank the name and address of the store; it wouldn't be a problem since he'd been here at least once before.

"I'll be there in twenty. Hang tight, kid. I'll see you soon," he said.

I paced the store looking for something to do. Ronny was searching the bookshelves. He had books on just about everything.

"Here it is," he said.

"What?"

"A meaning for those flowers," he said.

I had no idea what he was talking about, but he did so I let him continue.

"This book defines the meanings of flowers. See under daisy it says: innocence, loyal love, I'll never tell, and purity. You've got plenty of those and the striped carnations. Let's see. Striped carnations mean: sorry I can't be with you, wish I could be with you. Purple hyacinths stand for please forgive me. Magenta zinnias mean lasting affection. Could be someone trying to send you a message."

"You, my friend, are a romantic. If it was from someone trying to get my attention, they got it. It's kind of a cryptic way to send a message."

"It wasn't cryptic for the Victorians," he said.

"Too bad I'm not Victorian," I said. Even worse, Ronny could identify the flowers and I was relying on what he said and the pictures in his book. Someday I'll be able to identify more than roses, daisies and carnations without illustrations.

xx

Tank and Woody showed up together, it was probably a good thing considering it was Woody's store.

"Got yourself another one, Steph?" Tank said with a smile.

"I hope not," I said.

"Another what?" Ronny asked.

"Stalker. Our girl tends to pick up stalkers on a regular basis."

"Where's your amber?" Woody asked trying to look stern. "I can tell you don't have any on. You don't even have your tiger's eye on today, do you?"

I turned away from the men and felt around the outside of my shirt. I couldn't feel anything. Terrific. I turned back around and shrugged.

"You know better than to leave the house naked, Stephanie," Woody said letting out a sigh. "Dad, would you help her get some more amber? Oh and she needs to feel some love, she'll need some mother-of-pearl. She's probably worn her old ones out. I still need to teach her to recharge them, I didn't think she'd burn them out this quick."

Ronny selected several stones for me to choose from. I closed my eyes and felt for the right ones. I unceremoniously dropped them into my bra in front of the crowd. It wasn't like they were getting a free show or anything. My bra cups had had indeed become pretty handy as pockets. I even started keeping loose change there from time to time.

"Burn out?" I asked anyone who was listening.

"Explain it to you after they leave, Steph," Ronny said. "I'll teach you how to recharge and clear your stuff then, too."

Tank raised an eyebrow and said, "Naked?"

I said, "Just let it go Tank. It's ok."

Tank and Woody put on some rubber gloves and opened the note. It was obviously computer generated and said:

Palmist,

I can't meet with you today. Something came up.

Heard things have been hard for you lately.

If you need a friend, I'm a good listener.

My e-mail address is: .

Regards,

Cafe Ole

My fee was even included.

Tank smiled when he saw the contents of the note.

"Probably not dangerous Steph. I'll take everything to the office for analysis," he said. "Just in case."

"Thanks."

"If things check out, I'll leave them on your desk for you," he said as he handed me back my key-fob. "Ranger'll be gone another two or three days, if you want to avoid him. You can work in peace. Let me know if any of the guys give you any shit."

"Thanks. I think I'll do that." I said knowing just how low the bank balance really was.

xx

I decided when I went back to the Rangeman office I was going to pretend that nothing had happened. In my mind what was over was over and there was nothing left to talk about. No one asked and I volunteered nothing, the guys were a little too quiet but I could deal with that. I really could be Czarina of Denial Land and now I had minions. I'd actually always wanted minions. Truth be told, I've always wanted a tiara, I wonder where I can get one on discount?

I worked two half days and got a lot accomplished but I still had stuff to get done for Vinnie. There's nothing quite so motivating as a deadline to ensure things get done.

The second day, I noticed the flowers were on my desk along with the card. A sticky note from Tank said it'd all checked out but let him know if anything else showed up. At least he, she or it wasn't a stalker, yet.

I puzzled over the card. Someone was aware of who I was but didn't want me to know who they were. I wondered whether or not to send an e-mail. I really, in the fiber of my being, wanted to express my appreciation and say 'thanks'. The flowers smelled nice and made me smile, that on it's own deserved acknowledgment.

I didn't know exactly who it was, but I went through a mental checklist.

1. None of the guys here would ever send me flowers, I think they liked me but they all thought I had some form of cooties.

2. The doctor didn't know me from Adam, other than my medical file, it would be a reach for him anyway and we'd never talked about my sideline.

3. Ronny'd made a point of telling me, repeatedly, that he knew he wasn't my type.

4, Woody just got himself a girl and wouldn't do floral delivery anway.

5. Ranger didn't do sentimental or apologetic, his idea of a gift was a new box of ammo, a gun cleaning kit or a subscription to Soldiers of Fortune magazine. Realistically he'd tried to apologize on his voicemail, but I wasn't up for a pre-recorded apology. If Ranger was really going to apologize, it was going to take some sucking up. More likely, we'd both pretend the whole thing had never happened.

6. Lastly, I hadn't told Connie, Lula or anyone in my family about the situation. I was without a clue and it bothered me.

7. It couldn't be Joe, he was too far away in physical distance, my thoughts and in my heart. I couldn't even remember the last time he crossed my mind.

xx

When I finished at Rangeman, I went to see Marsha. She wanted to know if I was finding it easier to identify things that brought me happiness and joy. It was. The more I looked, the more I found to be happy about. Things like not needing to buy gas, already having clean underwear in the drawer. People were harder, but we talked about how most people never live up to the scripts or storylines we write for them anyway.

I got on the table and she did more of the stone stuff from before and put her hands all sort of places. I'd love to think I could remember what she was doing, but I fell asleep on the table. When she got done, I felt relaxed and calm.

As I got ready to leave, she told me to go home and think about my past relationships, just to spend energy on the good stuff, let the bad stuff go, and report back to her.

I'd looked for guidance from neutral third parties lately and determined she was a neutral third party. I decided to ask her what to do about the flowers and my dilemma.

"Did you like them?" she asked.

"I always like flowers. I rarely ever get them," I said. Woody's were the first non-stalker flowers I'd received in over a decade, but I couldn't tell her that and he'd delivered them himself.

"Do you have any way to reach him or her?" she asked.

I had an e-mail address but no indications of age or gender or anything else. It might not a good idea to send a thank you from work. Rangeman had an amazing firewall and everything that came in or out was monitored by 'them' whoever they were.

"E-mail," I said.

"You can send an e-card which will cost you nothing and they can respond or not, or you can chalk it up to someone's good deed for the day," she said.

"Which would you do?"

"Usually I just let my inner-voice tell me," she said with a wink.

"Terrific. Thanks." My inner-voice had a stutter and couldn't always decide what it wanted to say. Usually when I finally did hear something, I ignored until it was too late.

There was an envelope under my windshield wiper blade addressed to the Palmist.

Here we go again. I dialed and as soon as he answered I said "Tank? Can I bother you for a few minutes?"

I told him about the note under the blade. Instead of having me leave it there, he told me to bring it into the office. We'd open it together and see what it had to say and whether or not it should go for analysis.

I took the note to Tank's office. He put on rubber gloves and opened it.

Palmist,

Everywhere is walking distance if you have enough time.

-Stephen Wright

Cafe Ole

It seemed like someone who knew me pretty well from the appearance of things. Tank and I both smiled after reading it. I always seemed to drive a POS and had done my fair share of walking when a car unexpectedly decided to go to heaven.

I left Tank to give the note to whoever did their magic with it and realized I was going to be late to finish the appointment at the gynecologist's office.

I sucked it up and decided to keep the meeting with Dr. Jamison. I didn't want to go through the whole history thing again. I was a professional at my job and he was professional at his, even if he was incredibly hot and hunky. I was just going to close my eyes and pretend he was older than dirt while his hands were in 'interesting' places.

The office was unlike any I'd ever been in. The walls were painted a taupe, classical music was piped in, the floor was marble and the counter at the registration desk was a black-flecked granite. It looked like the front office to a high-end design firm.

I got to bypass the preliminaries and was shown to the exam room.

The exam room had several oil paintings on the walls and the lighting was dim. I changed into the gown, opening to the front. I waited and waited and waited. It was 4:50 before the doctor came in. No apologies for his lateness, just down to business and a brief overview of what was going to happen during the exam while we waited, yet again, for a nurse to come in as witness.

Dr. Jamison's hands were warm enough and the speculum and other assorted gadgets were too. It was professional and efficient and a lot less worrisome than it might have been at Rangeman. I'm still not sure why I was so hung up on doing this at the office. Yes, I actually did know. Whenever I get my period or am ovulating my hormones go into overload and I was afraid of doing something highly inappropriate. Drooling that day would have been the least of my worries. Thank heavens I had cramps that meeting, because it slowed me down, without the cramps I might've tackled him or humiliated myself in new and exciting ways.

When the exam was over he asked me to change so we could talk for just a minute.

He knocked on the door after about three minutes, I was still trying to get my Bates boots re-tied. Why don't they make these things available with Velcro anyway?

The doctor had heard the breaking of glass at the office and that I'd gone home early that day.

"Everything all right?" he asked.

"Sure. Do you know Ranger very well?" I asked.

He shook his head, "I met him the day I was there for your exam. I doubt we run in the same circles. When I'm not working, I tend to be a gym rat."

Gym rat? Based on the way his clothes fit and his body moved, I'd bet it was an understatement. I'd be willing to wager that a Pino's meatball sub never passed his lips. Ben and Jerry were probably just two old hippies to him. He and Ranger could, maybe, have potentially met at Health Nuts Anonymous, but that was doubtful. Of course, you couldn't argue with the results on either man.

"Ranger was just pushing my buttons and I let him get the better of me," I said. "In most challenges with Ranger, I tend to back down. I didn't that day and totally lost my cool." And I wound up humiliating myself in front of most of the guys and giving them way too much information about my personal life.

"If you ever want or need to talk about it, I'm a good listener," he said. I shook my head. "I can offer you support against him if he becomes violent or aggressive towards you, just let me know."

"He's never been violent towards me. I can usually handle him. If I can't, Tank or Woody will put him in his place," I said. "They look out for me." Plus they'd already volunteered to hurt Ranger if he so much as looked at me funny.

"In that case, on a lighter note, if you change your mind about meeting one of my friends, I'd love the chance to set you up, at least once. If I wasn't your doctor, I'd ask you out myself."

Great.

"Thanks for the compliment. I'll keep the offer of the fix up in mind, I'm not really ready to do that yet. You've been terrific."

"See you in three months, Stephanie," he said squeezing my shoulder as he walked out the door.

Terrific, three months before I get any action of any kind. Ironic, I spent years hoping for a hot man to put his hands on me everywhere and now that I finally have that, he's being paid to do it. Did this make the doctor a gigolo? Did it make Ranger his pimp? What did it make me? Good thing it was so professional, I'd hate to think what word I'd have to use to describe myself if I'd enjoyed it.


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: No money, no fame and no glory

Disclaimer: No money, no fame and no glory.

Thanks to all the beautiful betas for everything they do: Bluzkat, Cskatie, Deb B, Deb R, and Melody.

Ruth: there is a special word in here just for you – you let Hal use it once!

**Nothing But Time On My Hands**

**Chapter 18**

**By Alfonsina**

After I got done at the doctor's office, I checked my cell phone for messages. There was one and it was from Tank. The note checked out; it was OK - no strange powders or substances on it. It was deemed quirky but safe.

Now I had to decide if I was going to make a move of my own. Since 'thank you' had been weighing on me, I decided it was best to get it over and done. A good turn should always be acknowledged, right? E-mail would be acceptable, wouldn't it?

I'd lost my last laptop in the Suzuki that went to live with God several months ago and I'd never gotten around to replacing it. I really hadn't used it all that much. I wasn't big on e-mails and had never gotten the gist of chat rooms. Most of the stuff I needed a computer for I could do at Rangeman. Silvio even provided me a flash drive so I could keep track of my correspondence privately. I'd used it once for a Christmas letter I wrote to an old friend from college and never sent. What can I say? I'm better on the phone or in person.

I decided to go to the Trenton Public Library. It was still open and I had a library card, I could use the computers there.

I was walked through the procedures of how to use their computers and realized I didn't have an e-mail account I could use for the 'thank you' note I wanted to send. I couldn't very well use the Rangeman address and I didn't really want something that was easily identifiable to me.

Next, I thought about the various choices I had for e-mail addresses and carriers and decided on Yahoo. I could access it from anywhere in the world, not that that was going to be a problem, and I could choose a really funny name that no one would ever connect with me.

I decided to go with Chiromancer Keraunoscopia as my name and an address of . I made up a zip code and felt very proud of myself. I'd thumbed through a lot of Ronny's books previously and knew that Chiromancer was a fancy name for a palmist. Kerauonscopia was someone who read fortunes by thunder; the word was obscure and had nothing to do with the Burg. It was perfect; it said nothing about my age, gender or where I really lived if anyone ever wanted to look up my screen name. I'd have preferred to have just been but the system wanted a number for the stupid name, I can always remember 123, so I used it.

I decided to use a generic thank you note from Hallmark on line. It wasn't a fancy one, but it was free and easy enough to do.

I personalized it by saying,

_Cafe Ole,_

_Thanks for the flowers and the encouragement.  
I need it more than I realize some days._

_Chiromancer  
The palmist_

Nice, simple and to the point. I'd never hear from Cafe Ole again, but I felt good just knowing I'd done my bit. I wasn't going to dwell on the potential meanings of the flowers in e-mail; most likely it was a standard arrangement and probably Ronny made it something more than it was.

I ran into Ranger the next day. He'd been brusque with me a lot lately, not to mention accusing. This time he seemed unsettled and uncertain.

"Heard you got flowers," he said attempting to be casual.

"Yeah, I did. And before you ask, Tank already checked things out and said it was OK. No stalker." So what if I was a little defensive? He still hadn't said he was sorry to me in person or even said more than a passing hello.

"Good. Don't want any more trouble to find you."

"Anything I can do for you? If I don't get to work soon, my boss will chew my ass for spending too much time socializing on the job," I said. I hadn't intended for the comment to be biting, but it was. I felt awful as soon as the words left my mouth. I tried to cover with a small smile, but I knew he wouldn't buy it as being sincere.

"I'll let him know it was OK. I'll take any heat he sends your way," he said quietly.

"Good to know. Work to do. See you later," I said as I headed back out the door. I was working on the whole Ice Queen thing and not being very convincing of it. I was still stinging from our last encounter, but the bruising had finally gone down.

xx

Ronny set me up with several palm reading appointments for the weekend. He was able to schedule four of them back to back. He figured it was a good way for me to learn to be more concise; the best way to do that was to limit my time.

When I'd finished my third of four palms, I was on a roll and was anxious to do the fourth. There was a tinkle from over the door and a messenger came in with a small box.

"Can someone sign for this delivery?" he asked.

Ronny went over and signed. It was a large envelope with a smallish box inside. The envelope was addressed to The Palmist again.

"Tank," I began the all too familiar cell phone conversation.

"Let me guess, you were at the store and something showed up?" he said. I could hear the smile. "Shouldn't you be calling Ranger for this?"

"Are you sure we don't have a stalker situation here?" I asked. "And no, right now I don't want to call Ranger unless I absolutely have to."

"OK, I can't fault you for not calling Ranger, but you are going to have to talk to him at some point. As to the stalker, I'm pretty much sure it isn't a worst-case scenario. Does it look like before?"

"Addressed the same way," I said.

"Go ahead and open it. I'll wait on the line for you."

I opened the envelope and inside was a box. It was a box that normally contains gourmet chocolates, instead it held a piece of paper. It was a good thing I hadn't let my mouth start to water yet.

The note read:

_Chiromancer,_

_Can't make today's appointment.  
Something unexpected happened._

_Thank you for the note. It made my day._

_Cafe Ole  
_Café

_Remember in the words of George Carlin  
Weather forecast for tonight: dark_

I read Tank the note.

"Anything else in the box, Steph?"

"Yeah, there's a coupon for one pound of chocolate from a designer sweet shop."

"He or she probably doesn't want you to think you are being poisoned."

"Probably not. Hey, my fee is here, too."

I gave him the name of the messenger service and the name on the coupon so he could do his investigation.

"I've got to go, Steph. Call if you need anything," he said.

Great, Tank was now being a font of information. Not. It sounded like he might know more than he was letting on.

xx

I put the coupon from the store on my refrigerator. I didn't want to use it yet; I got warm fuzzies looking at it. No calories and no need for extra workouts if I didn't actually eat the chocolate. Who was I kidding, it would probably stay on the fridge door for two hours and then I'd have to live at the gym for a month.

I wanted to say 'thank you' again to whomever this Cafe Ole person was. I didn't want to go to the bonds office and face the debate team, we'd done enough of that the last couple of months. I rounded up my purse and went to the library to get the next Diane Gabaldon book, I'd only just finished reading Outlander – it had taken me forever. I decided I was up to the challenge and was going to check out Dragonfly in Amber. I'd been wearing a lot of amber lately, so it was a likely match. Plus I was wanted to find out what the Red Scott wore under his kilt.

I couldn't resist logging on to the computer at the library, and since there were no witnesses. Why not?

I found another Hallmark thank you e-card to send. Again, I went with simple and to the point. I didn't know who this was and I didn't want to seem too frilly or foofy.

_Cafe Ole,_

_Seems I am always saying 'thank you'._

_The chocolate will be a wonderful treat._

_It is one of my weaknesses._

_I don't charge for broken appointments,  
so let me know where I can send you the  
two fees you've already provided._

_In my world, if I don't work, I'm not paid.  
I haven't worked with you yet, so I'm not  
comfortable accepting the money._

_Regards,  
Chiromancer_

The next day I went back to the library to check my account to see if there was any response to my e-mail, there wasn't. The card hadn't even been picked up. I decided that it was fun while it lasted but I wasn't going to worry too much more about this Cafe Ole person, just a Good Samaritan who showed up on time to help my ego.

xx

Marsha decided that it was time for me to figure out what it was I really wanted in a relationship. She was going to be my personal love doctor. Yippee. Not. I tried telling her that I'd done for Woody because he'd asked me to help him, specifically. I also told her that I wasn't really ready for a bunch of blind dates or fix ups of any kind.

I couldn't tell if she was listening to me or not, I was face down on the massage table when she decided to have this talk with me. Basically it wasn't with me, it was more at me. I had to make grunts in the appropriate places or she would wait me out.

Marsha finally let me up and was absolutely beaming. I had unintentionally grunted my way into something I probably shouldn't have.

I had seen that look before. It was the one I reserved when I was alone with a pecan pie and a bowl of whipped cream. It was the look I gave a pineapple upside down cake before I cut into it. It was the look I gave a frozen Snickers bar on a hot summer day. Crap. She was looking happy that I was going to do something and I usually looked that happy before I ate something. Things just seemed backwards.

"I know my dearest nephew has talked to you about the Universe and being specific," she said.

I nodded, at least I wasn't grunting.

"You get what you ask for. If you dwell on remote, distant, and unfaithful, you will get that," she said.

Where was this coming from anyway? Sounded like she knew both Joe and the Dick.

"Your list, your relationship list. You weren't paying any attention when I was working on you, were you?" she asked with a sigh.

I shrugged. "It felt good, that's all that seemed to matter. Sorry."

"Let's take this from the top. Do you want to meet the love of your life?" she asked.

I shrugged.

"Yes or no, please," she said.

"I guess." Pause. Fine. Be that way. "Yes," I said quietly.

"Do you want more than just to meet him? Realistically you may already know him. Do you want to know that it's really him and be with him?" I must have shrugged again because she immediately said, "Baby, this is 'yes or no'. The universe won't play charades with you."

"Yes," I whispered.

"Do you think you deserve it?"

"No," I said quietly. "Maybe." I looked at her and she looked at me. "Kind of." Another long pause and in a whisper said, "Yes. I hope."

"I'm going to need to do some serious work on your self esteem," she said.

No big surprise there. I had enough self esteem to do my job, most of the time. I had enough self esteem to go toe to toe with my mother, once in a while. I didn't necessarily have enough self-esteem to have the relationship I wanted.

Go to store and buy an extra gallon of self-esteem. Got it.

"Let's get back to your list. I want you to write down everything you want in a relationship," she said.

"Easier said than done. They've all been failures," I said.

"We'll work backwards. Write down all the bad stuff and we'll find a way to spin it positively," she said.

Great. It seemed that I was going to get more involved in the touchy-feely new age crap than I had planned.

xx

I gave the library one more shot on my way home. The line was forever long and I had to read for almost two hours before there were any free computers. At least they had a spare copy of A Dragonfly in Amber that I could read.

I logged onto the new e-mail account to see if there was anything there. Yes! I got excited too soon, several were spam. I didn't really care about using Viagra or extending the length of my penis. The other showed that my e-card had been picked up at 1:27 a.m.

No response but at least my thank you was received.

xx

The next time I was in Rangeman taking a break, I was scribbling on a legal pad. Things I didn't like in relationships or things that I thought made relationships go wrong.

1. Lack of tolerance for my family

2. Disappearing at a moment's notice

3. Not sharing emotions

4. Pressure to be something I wasn't

5. One sided expectations (I had to meet his, he never had to meet mine)

6. Kids – needs to be joint decision

7. Pressure to marry within a few months of dating

8. relationship based entirely on sex and chemistry

9. Lack of conversation about anything

Need to know:

1. Birthday

2. Favorite color

3. First pet

4. Why me?

5. Sense of humor, does he have one?

6. What kind of music does he like

7. What was he like growing up?

8. Where did he grow up?

9. Did he see himself as being grown up now?

10. Was life an adventure or was it boring and a chore?

I was getting ready to write more when Woody walked behind me and squeezed my shoulder.

"Hey, whatcha writing, Shakespeare?" he asked. Whenever anybody scribbled anything, Woody called them Shakespeare, my turn for the taunt.

Smart-ass. "Love you too, Woody. It's a list for your aunt Marsha," I said with a sigh.

"Don't tell me she's got you doing the love relationship list?" he asked.

"I busted my hump looking for somebody for you and now everyone seems to think it should be my turn," I said. "Before you say anything, I know you probably would've met Morgan anyway, but I helped you with your social skills."

"Yeah, I didn't sleep with her for at least three dates," he said with a wink.

"I really didn't need to know that, Woody," I said.

"Just kidding," he said. "We decided to save it for summer solstice."

Oh boy, just what I wanted to hear.

"How romantic of you," I said. I really didn't want to know anymore about this.

"Actually it is, when you think about it. The best part will be when we check each other for ticks at the end," he said.

"No more details. That is just TMI. If I hear any more specifics, I'll start to call you mini-Brett," I said. I was glad for him, really, but there really is such a thing as too much information.

"Let me see your list," he said.

"No. It's personal," I said turning the paper upside down.

"I want to make sure you don't leave anything off the list," he said.

Ranger chose that moment to come in.

"Babe. Woody."

"Hey Ranger. Are you in town much this week?"

"No. Leaving again tomorrow night after your distraction. Woody, if she wants you to respect her privacy, respect it. We all should honor Stephanie's boundaries. Despite the ribbing she takes, she's not one of the guys."

"That's one of the nicest things you've said about me," I said. "Thank you."

He nodded and left the room.

"Have you two built any bridges yet?" Woody asked. He knew I was missing what little relationship I did have with Ranger.

"No. I doubt there will be construction of any kind on bridges in the near future," I said with a sigh. "I wish I could make it better. I thought I didn't see much of him before. You know that's the most I've seen or heard from him since the big blow up."

"I don't know what to say; maybe he doesn't either," he said. "I know what'll make you feel better. Give me your list, I'll see if I can improve on it."

"No. If you want me to have a 'better' list, write a list for me yourself," I said. "Use your own ideas, don't springboard from mine."

xx

On my way home, I dragged my 'big book' as Gabaldon fans refer to them, with me to the library. I waited for a free terminal and YES I had one e-mail message that wasn't spam.

_Chiromancer,_

_I'd like to talk more this way, if you want.  
I'm not so good with people sometimes._

_Let me know if you are OK with it and we can  
set up some ground rules._

_Cafe Ole_

_The main dangers in this life are the people who want to change everything or nothing.  
Nancy Astor_

I couldn't tell if this was good or bad. It reminded me of being a Girl Scout when I was a kid. We took on a project being a pen pal with someone for a full year. I got somebody from Guam. She was nice, but the letters never really said a lot of anything.

Well, it's only e-mail and it's not like it is traceable to me. Why not? I could always use another friend. Some days friends seemed to be in short supply.

I pressed the reply button on the message.

_Cafe Ole,_

_Let me know what your ground rules are and_

_we can negotiate._

_Chiromancer_

Then I hit send and immediately logged off.

I was afraid there would be an answer and more afraid wouldn't be one.

xx

There was an impromptu meeting at the store about me and my lack of a love life. It was longer than it should have been, but at least I was included in it. Morgan wanted one set of things for me. Marsha had her own priorities. Woody wanted him to undergo a background check and a complete physical. I wanted to make sure he had a job, didn't have any communicable diseases and wasn't in jail. Just as things were getting heated I needed to leave to get ready for my distraction. I thought it was interesting that Ronny kept repeating, "The Goddess doesn't make junk. It'll all work out just fine, kid. I have faith in the plans the Goddess has for you."

I tried to leave on time and just couldn't. The damned car wouldn't start. At least it was only a dead battery and not something drastic.

Woody dropped me off so I could do the necessary primping. I realized I hadn't seen the case file yet so I called Ranger to find out what I was up against for the night.

"Ranger, who are we going to get tonight?"

"Derrick Sandoval. Car theft ring. Dress like you've had a long day at work. He likes career women," he said.

"Thanks."

"Pick you up in two hours," he said as he disconnected the phone.

I was barely going to make it. If a little rumpled would work, I would be perfect tonight. I dug around in the closet and found an old brown skirt with a creamy silk looking button down blouse. The skirt was loose enough if I needed to 'dress' provided Ranger brought a gun. The heels were tall enough to make my legs look good, but not so high they'd be out of place in an office. I got myself ready for a regular distraction and then I smudged some of the make-up so it looked like it'd been there all day.

I hadn't been wearing the tourmaline necklace much in public, but wanted to have something a little extra special on. I wore it whenever I did a reading, but I didn't wear it much other than that. I was always afraid of ruining it, or worse, losing it.

Ranger picked me up right on time. I don't think he'd ever run late for anything his entire life. We went over the details of the distraction and my role.

We were sitting in the front seat of the car while he attached the wire to my bra when he noticed the necklace.

"Why are you wearing that tonight?" he asked.

"Because I like it," I said a little defensively. "And it's special to me."

"I don't think I've ever seen you wear it," he said.

"I wear it whenever I'm at the store or if I know I'm going to get to stay clean for the day," I said, "which isn't too often."

"I didn't think you liked it."

"It's actually my favorite thing, I just don't want to ruin it. This necklace is the nicest piece of jewelry I've ever owned," I said.

"But you were married," he started to say.

"Yeah and when we divorced I took my ring in to be appraised, you know as part of the settlement. He fought me about doing it, told me just to keep it. I thought it was a sentimental thing and he didn't want me to pawn it. He gave me 'diamond' look ring from one of those shopping channels. At least the setting was real and wasn't plated; it was worth about sixty bucks at the time."

"I'm sorry," he began softly no longer looking at me.

"Why are you sorry? I married a cheap SOB who didn't think I'd ever find out. I found out after everything was dissolved anyway. Doesn't matter."

"I didn't mean to pry," he began.

"If I didn't want you to know, I wouldn't have said anything. But like I said before, this is my favorite piece of jewelry and I'd hate to see it ruined. Whenever I look at it or feel it on my neck, I smile."

"Thanks, Babe."

"We need to quit talking. There's a bad guy in there who needs to be distracted. Probably time to lure him out of the building. What do you say?"

He kissed my forehead and said, "Go get 'em tiger."

It wasn't one of my better nights. Derrick Sandoval liked working blondes with high, tight, perky tits. In this outfit, not a lot of me looked high, tight or perky. Lester fixed the problem by 'accidentally' pouring a beer down my shirt. Based on his precision and the ease he used, he'd practiced that maneuver. Thankfully he got the side that wasn't wired and I didn't have too many gems stones in my bra.

The skip came along nicely after that. I guess Lester's artfulness, as he liked to call it, has its uses.

The ride back to my apartment was very quiet, per Ranger's usual. He checked the dust bunnies to make sure none had escaped the confines of the bed or sofa.

"Don't you have a laptop, Babe?" he asked.

"Used to. Burned with the last vehicle," I said.

"If you miss it I can surplus one from the office for you," he said.

"Nah. I'd probably just waste a bunch of time reading the comics on line, playing solitaire or something illustrious like that. Besides, it's not like I'm going to need one often. Just at work." Since he and I were finally talking, a little, I wasn't going to tell him about going to the library to trade e-mails with a stranger.

He nodded.

"Thank you, no. If I change my mind, can I let you know?" I said quietly.

"Sure. See you in a few days," he said as he kissed my temple. The door closed and made an almost tentative sound. I don't know how that exactly is, usually a door closing sounds like a door closing. This sounded like it was somehow afraid of something.

xx

Grandma had been pursuing the idea of getting her own Mr. Wonderful and she'd been active about it. She had signed up for a manifestation class at Fairy Godmother's and had taken the lesson to heart. She thought about what she wanted, wrote a list and read it out loud daily. She even bought a phallic shaped candle to light when she read her list. She said it couldn't hurt. I think she was doing it to annoy my mother. Maybe I should follow her example.

She'd been just like Santa Claus, making a list and checking it over and over again to find a 'honey with some money who boinks like a bunny'. She thought rhyming the words would add a certain something. Based on the fact that my mother was ironing the neighbor's curtains, I'd say she was chanting pretty often.

Grandma had a short list of what she wanted in a man:

1. Still able to drive

2. Can see if he's wearing his glasses

3. Doesn't turn down his hearing aid to ignore me

4. Still has enough pressure to expand a few things

5. Doesn't rely on pills to get Mr. Happy happy

6. Lives in his own home, or shares with someone who was understanding

7. Has enough money to periodically go out to dinner after 4:30 in the afternoon

Because I love my grandmother, I do things for her I wouldn't do for anyone else, ever. I followed Sheldon Trask around town for half a day but couldn't see that he was doing anything unusual. It was the longest and hottest day of the year and I was doing surveillance for Grandma Mazur. It wasn't like I was going to get paid. How do you charge your grandma for snooping on a guy she thought she was dating? I was grateful that Sheldon didn't run around a lot in the heat of the day, but an ice cream cone about now would have hit the spot, my Kojak style lollipop just wasn't cutting it. I really needed to stop watching re-runs of old cop shows with Mooner when I collected him for re-bonding.

Grandma was convinced there was another woman, but felt the relationship was too early to ask for exclusivity, though she'd heard someone named Alice leave a message on his machine one night.

"Sheldon, it's Alice. Call me, I have exactly what you want; you can thank me later. You have my number. Talk to you soon, sweetie."

Grandma had been fit to be tied when she'd overheard the message and Sheldon played it off like it was one of his kids.

Finally I spotted him going into a strip mall with a little natural foods market. He didn't know who I was so it was no problem following him around the store.

He wandered over by the bulk-dried herbs and was met by a girl in a t-shirt and jeans who looked like she was maybe 17.

"Sheldon, you didn't call. I was getting worried."

This guy must be good; she could easily have been a grandchild or great grandchild.

He looked sheepishly at her.

"You say it's here and it'll work? Really? I can't be disappointed again," he said anxiously.

"I mixed it myself. My dad and grandfather both use it. Just know it'll taste nasty, but it'll work in about half an hour," she said. "They don't know I'm the one who mixes their orders."

So maybe she was older than 17, maybe she was 18. Still, she looked pretty young to be doing whatever it was she was doing.

"Sold. You're a lifesaver, Alice," he said with genuine warmth in his voice.

He took the baggie she had behind the counter and carried it to the checkout and left.

I wandered over to Alice and started a conversation.

"So, do you guys mix herbs for people for special problems?" I asked. "You know like colds or high blood pressure?"

"Sure," she said. "Do you have something you need?"

"No, just wondering," I said. "I know it's none of my business, but what'd you sell the old guy? He looked really happy."

Doctor patient confidentiality shouldn't apply or be a problem. Turned out that Alice was a fountain of information. She liked to talk and I was going to get to listen.

"It's a little something to help with ED. He said he'd been having problems getting his body to perform the way his mind wants it to and doesn't want to use Viagra or anything like that. So I blended something to hopefully improve his performance. I blended it with him in mind," she said.

"Does that stuff really work?" I asked.

"Not everything works for everybody, but he's used it in the past and not complained about it," she said. "Besides, he said he's keeping company with a new lady friend and doesn't want her to be any the wiser."

Well that was something I could keep to myself.

I left the store after I bought a pound of grapes to share with Rex.

I dug my phone out of my purse and dialed. "Grandma?" I asked.

"So what'd you find out about my competition?" she asked.

"You don't have any competition," I said honestly and to the best of my knowledge, she didn't.

"So who's this Alice dame?" she asked.

"Just a clerk at a store. He special ordered something and she wanted to make sure he picked it up," I said. It was the truth as far as it went.

"So you think I've really got a shot with Sheldon? I kinda like him," she said. "We've got a date at the No Tell Motel tomorrow night."

Eww. That was way too much information, Grandma.

"Yeah, you've got a shot. Promise. Gotta get a bad guy, Grandma. I'll talk to you soon," I said as I hung up the phone.

What happens at the herbalist should stay at the herbalist.


	19. Chapter 19

Nothing But Time On My Hands

Standard disclaimers, yada yada yada….

The beautiful betas as always, I salute each and everyone of you … you all know who you are right? Introductions, again? Yeesh: Bluzkat, CS Katie, Deb B, Deb WF, Melody

**Nothing But Time On My Hands  
Chapter 19  
by Alfonsina**

The rules.

That was the title of the next e-mail. It was dated late the night of my last distraction and sent at 11:38 p.m.

_Chiromancer,_

_I've been thinking about some ground rules. _

_Feel free to negotiate if you want._

_Rule 1. No personal information. Generalities only._

_Rule 2. No names. Let's keep to screen names or derivatives for now._

_Rule 3. E-Mail only, I'm not great with words and like to take my time so I can express myself clearly._

_Rule 4. My work requires odd hours and last minute travel. Don't take it personally if you don't hear from me for several days at a time._

_Rule 5. Politics and religion are off the table._

_Suggestion 1. Chiromancer is a lot to spell, I'd like to just call you 'Palmist', if it's ok with you._

_Let me know if this works for you._

_Cafe Ole_

_Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards._

_ Soren Kierkegaard_

OK. The rules looked pretty good to me. Not too hard to follow. Not that I was good at following rules.

I was thinking about what the rules meant to me when I realized my half-hour was almost over. Crap. So I decided to reply.

_Café Ole,_

_Rules are meant to be broken. Besides, I've got a short attention span some days. _

_Don't get upset if I don't remember the list, just a gentle reminder will do._

_Your rules. Your game. You start._

_TTFN,_

_Palmist_

_PS I agree Chiromancer is a lot to type some days_

xx

The phone rang at 10:45. I wasn't quite ready for bed but I was close to being ready for lights out.

"Stephanie? Am I interrupting something?" asked the voice.

"Not at all, Grandma," I said.

"Can you come get me and Sheldon?" she asked. "I don't want to bother your father."

She proceeded to tell me about how she had broken Sheldon's glasses in a game of Truth or Dare; she kept trying to tell me what the dare was but I didn't think I was old enough to know.

She gave me the address of tonight's No Tell Motel and told me the two of them would be waiting for me to rescue them from themselves.

I pulled on some almost clean jeans and an oversized t-shirt and my bunny slippers and went to retrieve the lovebirds.

I got to the motel and knocked on the door. Grandma let me into the room, it was an absolute shambles. Sheldon was sitting on the bed talking into a cell phone.

"It was an accident." Pause. "I'd really like for you to pick me up. I have my reasons." Pause. "Please?" Pause. "I'm your grandfather, that's why. See you soon Brian."

Sheldon looked at me and said, "My Brian is going to pick me up soon. Will you wait until he gets here?"

"Sure, unless you'd rather have me take you home. It would be no bother," I said. From the looks of the room and the two septuagenarians, it had been an interesting evening and probably they didn't need any more witnesses to it.

"No, that's OK. There's something I want to tell Brian," he said looking pleased with himself. I wondered whether or not the herbal remedy worked, better not to ask.

Ten difficult and slow minutes passed when finally a knock came on the door.

"Grandpa? Are you in there?" asked the voice.

It was yet another familiar voice. I was going to have to do some serious voice recognition work at some point soon. I did well with faces and names. Voices I could recognize as having heard before but not necessarily identifying who the person was.

Sheldon stood and opened the door.

"Brian, thank you for coming," he said.

It was a bleary eyed and disheveled Binky, wearing a too-tight Big Dog t-shirt and a pair of cut-off shorts with sneakers, standing on the other side of the door. Oh happy day, I mean, oh happy night. I'd seen Binky in tight pants before, almost every time I'd seen him, but I'd never seen him in shorts. All I could say about his legs was 'wow' he was mouth watering. I really needed to do something with my hormones and sooner than later. What was my fascination with men's hind-ends anymore? Probably I'd spent too much time listening to Lester and Brett talk about women.

"Binky?" I asked.

"Steph? What are you doing here? You aren't dating my grandfather are you?" he asked.

"That would be me," Grandma piped up from her perch on the Wa-Wa bed.

"Thank God," Binky said quietly.

I just looked at him.

"I'm not into older men," I said.

"Like I said, 'thank God'. What are you doing here?" he asked.

"My grandmother seems to have broken your grandfather's glasses. We don't want the details, believe me," I said. I handed him the battered frames and cracked lenses.

"I didn't realize your grandmother was 'little Buttercup'," he said.

Little Buttercup? Grandma?

"They have a date in a couple of days and I doubt these," he said pointing to the broken frames, "can be fixed enough for him to drive on their next date."

Terrific. It looked like now I was going to escort Grandma on her dates.

"Let me know where and when and I'll make sure she's there," I said.

"Cool. I'll take him and maybe the two of us can hang out while they bowl."

"Bowling?" I asked.

"Yeah, it should keep them off the streets and in an air conditioned climate for a couple of hours. We could do something else," he said. "He has never bowled a game scoring above 30 so I doubt lack of glasses will hinder him."

"Let's just play it by ear," I said gathering up Grandma's bag. It was heavier than it looked. Binky took it from me and carried it to the car.

"Talk to you tomorrow at work," I said.

"Night Steph, Mrs. Mazur," Binky said.

Binky leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. Wow. He was more forward than Woody, but I knew better than to compare him to anyone else.

Despite his blonde, boy next-door looks and dazzling smile, Binky was one smart cookie. He could explain anything mechanical to physics in such a way as to be understandable, but he did it in such a way that it didn't feel like he was talking down to me.

I wondered if I could use him to help Mary Alice with science and math when she got older. She thought like me and got big concepts but sometimes missed the details; or else she got the details and had no idea what the concept was supposed to be.

xx

There was no answer to my e-mail for two whole days. I wasn't surprised, but I was disappointed. It seemed like forever.

The next e-mail I got was strange, but so far they'd all been strange.

The subject line was: who is your favorite author and why?

_Palmist,_

_I like to read things that make me think. Richard Bach is one of my favorites. I can re-read his work and always find something that makes me stop and examine my life._

_One of my favorite quotes is:_

_You are never given a wish_

_without being given the power _

_to make it come true._

_- From the book __Bridge Across Forever_

_CO (easier to type than Cafe Ole - don't you think?)_

_PS That's one of his longer books. If you've never read them, try __Jonathan Livingston Seagul__l._

OK. So I'm not a big reader. I decided to fess up in the beginning. It would be easier than lying and trying to catch up with a lot of stuff on the internet.

_CO,_

_I don't read a lot unless it's magazines. But lately, I've been reading some historically based fiction because it is so unlike my own life. _

_I can get lost in the language and the images._

_I did find a quote for you, since you seem to like them._

_Curiouser and curiouser!_

_- Lewis Carroll_

_Palmist_

I packed my stuff up and went to the bonds office to check on new files. There were no new files, but there were plenty of doughnuts. The girls wanted to know how my personal search for a man was coming.

"I made a short list of what I didn't want. Woody made a three page list of what I should want. Morgan's list was eight freaking pages. She is of the opinion that the Universe is like Pizza Hut, you simply call the Universe and place an order for your perfect …"

As I was talking, I realized that Lula and Connie weren't paying attention to me anymore.

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and blew it out.

"Either I've got a big glob of jelly on my shirt or Ranger's standing right behind me," I said.

They both nodded. They didn't say a word which meant it was indeed Ranger. How much had he heard this time?

"I can help you take care of your jelly stains," he said into my ear, "and your list."

Great, he'd heard it all. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine myself calm, cool and collected. It didn't work, he was standing too close.

"No thanks. I've got some spray stuff I can put on it when I get home," I said. "Gotta go, guys. Talk to you tomorrow."

"I'll walk you to your car," he said. Oh God. He's going to want to talk about me and my lack of a love life.

"I can help you with that list," he said as he was backing me into my car-door.

"I just wrote some things to keep the people at the store happy. I'm not seriously looking," I said.

"Sure? I could come up with some things you might not have thought about."

"Yeah. You'll want a criminal background check, including fingerprints, and a lie detector test up front," I said. "Woody got that covered."

"No. I was thinking about trust, respect, loyalty. Those are things I think are important."

"Those are great qualities, you're right. At the moment I'm just doing this to keep them happy," I said. "Besides, I'm not worried about finding anyone right now."

"Really?" he asked.

"Really. I've never had a lasting relationship, so I'm in no hurry to start a new one. I'll probably wind up buying a cat when Rex finally goes to the big pet store in the sky."

"Why?"

"Because when women reach a certain age... Never mind, Ranger. I'm just not really relationship material at this point in my life," I said.

"Babe."

"Let's talk about your trip."

"I learned a lot. It was a curious experience for me, but good," he said as he looked at his watch. "Got an appointment. See you later, Babe."

It looked like he wanted to kiss me and I wanted him to, which is probably why he didn't.

xx

Marsha took it upon herself to compile _all_ the lists of what I should have in a soulmate and narrowed things down and tapered others. I was grateful when she scratched off "must be able to get it up at least six times a night," Woody was a real smart ass when he was happy. I think I liked him better before he was in love.

I had on the list that I wanted a lot of hair to run my fingers through. Marsha changed it so the hair would be on his head and not on his back. I was glad she thought of that, if not he might look like he was wearing a fur suit when he was naked and I wasn't looking for that much hair to run my fingers through.

I wanted someone who believed in family values. She said some phrases like family values can have specific meanings to specific people and I'd need to really spell it out so I got what I wanted and needed. Marsha changed it so that it was someone who respected the importance of family in my life, whether or not I ever had kids. She also said the core values of who someone was were more important than looks and I needed to focus more on values than on anything else.

As a matter of fact, she made a lot of alterations on things that had never come to my mind. Like the word single. Did it mean never been married? Did it mean widowed? Could it mean divorced? If divorced how many times was acceptable? What could I really accept? She said that when she was in school she did just fine on essay tests, but was the only person she knew who did whole paragraphs on True/False exams arguing the strengths and weaknesses of the questions.

When she was done compiling, refining and otherwise editing, Marsha's approved soulmate list was meager, only seven pages long. The Boy Scout list was looking better to me all of the time.

I thought once the list was done, everyone would leave me alone. They didn't. In fact at that point they wanted to make me actually do something with the list. Try to get my own prince charming to make an appearance.

We were in the break room when Woody decided to tell me what to do.

"Steph, there's this really great relationship ritual we can do. I promise it'll work," he began.

I thunked my head on the table, covered it with my hands, and closed my eyes. "I don't have to get naked with you do I?" I asked remembering the stuff his dad gave him back in April and the conversation he and I had had about getting naked together.

"No, but it would be _so much better_," he said with a wink. Did I mention that he was a real smart ass when he was happy?

"I'll help," said Brett.

"I can help, too," said Zip.

They'd wandered into the room when I said the 'naked' word. Of course they did, these guys could hear the word naked said by any female who was over the age of consent a mile away.

I kept my eyes closed, not wanting to look at them. Besides, it would be harder to throw something at one of them and hit them if my eyes were closed. Plus, if I kept my eyes closed long enough maybe they'd all evaporate.

"Oh for God's sake. I'm not going to get naked with any..." I was starting to say when all of a sudden the chairs in the room started to move.

I sighed and opened my eyes, of course it was Ranger. I always waited for him to tell the guys, "At ease," or something like that in these situations.

"Good to know, Babe," he said walking to the fridge.

"It's not what it sounded like," I started.

"It never is," he said.

"Woody, would you care to explain this for our audience?" I asked finally lifting my head.

"Not in detail. Besides, if we did the ritual, we wouldn't be alone. It would be a group thing," he said. "And there's a new member of the coven I'd really like you to meet."

Why was he bringing this up now? This was getting uncomfortable on a lot of levels.

"I'll definitely help," said Zip.

"You betcha, I can work that into my schedule," said Brett.

"Woody," I said. "You said you were solitary, no coven. Remember?"

"Morgan's wants to change a few things. We're starting a new coven and we're pretty informal. We're trying to keep the balance of energy where everyone benefits. We're looking for members."

"Not so into the group thing, Woody," I sighed. "Way uncomfortable right about now."

I wanted to become Garbo, I wanted to be left alone.

"What? The more people who participate in ritual, the stronger the energy," he said, "and the faster the results. Besides, it would only be the four of us right now. Evan's got some amazing energy, you'd do well together."

Now it's gone from naked alone with Woody, to naked in a group with Woody, to naked in a group on a date with Woody. Eww.

"Remember how we decided we weren't talking about religion at work, Woody?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said.

"So you'll understand why I'm not going to finish this conversation with you now or ever. Crossed the line, Woodrow," I said. "And not really wanting to meet someone new right now, OK?"

"Got it, sorry about that Steph. I know Evan will be really disappointed."

Usually Woody was pretty together, but today he was the Clueless Wonder.

"What religion is that?" Zip asked.

"You can talk to Woody about it on your own time," Ranger said in a very sharp tone of voice.

I looked directly at Ranger who appeared to be on a low simmer, hot beneath the surface and about to boil.

"See, Ranger? This is why I'm thinking I'll soon own a cat, a neutered cat. Cats are easier and are less complicated than men."

"Cool. When you buy a cat, will you invite me over to play with your pussy? I'm really good at teasing little pussies," Brett said. "You know, a young enough pussy can be trained to do ..."

"I'm done here. Guys, Ranger."

I was almost to my cube when I heard Ranger growling, "Brett. How do you feel about one month of graveyards doing surveillance?"

"Ah shit."

"Sounds like you just bought yourself another week."

"You can't..."

"Can and will. I'll add another if you keep this up. In fact if I hear one word from anyone about this conversation Brett will get an additional week for each conversation I become aware of. Are we clear?"

Three voices said in unison, "Crystal clear, sir."

On his way back to his office, Ranger stopped at my cube. "I hope that helps a little with the rumor mill, Babe."

"Thanks."

xx

I stopped at the library on my way home and checked e-mail.

_Palmist,_

_I'd like to know if we can have more than one e-mail exchange every day or so. _

_Let me know if this is possible. I'd like to 'talk' to you more often._

_CO_

_I love talking about nothing. It is the only thing I know anything about._

_ Oscar Wilde_

This was someone who hadn't passed any judgments on me, so I figured why not just go for honesty.

_CO,_

_I'd love to do that, but it isn't always going to be possible. _

_I send you messages from the library. _

_It's not possible from home, no computer, and I won't waste my boss's money on personal e-mails._

_Sorry, it'll just be whatever times I can get here and the terminals are free._

_Palmist_

After I hit send, I read the funnies on the internet for a couple of minutes. Just in case, I decided to check e-mail one more time. There was already another message from him.

_Palmist,_

_I get a great buy on technology. In fact, we just upgraded a number of offices. There are some surplus laptops right now. _

_I'd like for you to accept one, no strings and no gimmicks. _

_CO_

"_Look to the future, because that is where you'll spend the rest of your life."_

_ George Burns_

I immediately hit 'reply' and typed.

_CO,_

_I can't accept a gift that generous from you. I'd have to pay for it somehow, I don't accept gifts well. _

_Sorry, but thanks anyway._

_Palmist_

_Please don't be offended._

A line was forming and I was almost out of time anyway. I logged off and went home. I wanted to find out what Jaime the Red was doing, he was keeping me company most nights now.

I was re-heating some pizza in the microwave when I heard a knock on my door. For once I checked the peephole and saw it was Ranger.

"Did we have a distraction scheduled for tonight?" I asked after I let him in.

"No," he said. "Just wanted to see you. I don't see you much anymore."

"Something on your mind?"

"If only you knew," he said.

"Do you want to talk about it? You can tell me pretty much anything," I said. "If you don't want to or can't tell me, can you at least tell me if I should be worried?"

"Nothing for you to worry about. You have my word."

"Want a beer or some pizza? It's a couple of days old, but I can nuke some for you."

"Beer would be nice," he said.

I got two beers from the fridge and walked over to the couch. He turned on the TV and we sat together and watched a game.

I must be really lousy company because Ranger hadn't been there for more than fifteen minutes before he fell asleep with his head on my shoulder. This was reminiscent of time spent with Woody. If I ever met my soulmate, I really hoped he didn't snore because I had a feeling we would 'sleep' together on the first date.

I tried to stay still to finish out the game, Ranger could wake up and we would both pretend he hadn't been asleep. As soon as I'd made that commitment, my bladder went off. I held it as long as I could and kept the squirming down to a minimum. In the end Mother Nature won, but she usually did.

I got off the sofa and headed to the bathroom. It was enough noise and motion to wake the sleeping Adonis.

"Do you want me to leave?" he asked.

"No. You look exhausted. You can stay if you want," I said. He'd been looking exceptionally tired the last couple of weeks, he would be safer to just sleep here.

He looked at the sofa and I realized just how lumpy it probably felt to him.

"You can have the bed if you'd like," I said.

"Can't keep you from your own bed, Babe."

"If you promise to be good, we can share," I said.

He didn't say a word, he just walked into the bedroom and started to remove his weapons and his clothes.

Oh God.

He took off everything except for his pants. He must've been commando.

I pulled a long nightshirt and some clean panties from the drawer. Before I left the dresser, I dug down to the silk boxers I bought forever ago. They were too big for me, but they felt nice on my skin.

I handed him the boxers and asked him if he wanted to sleep in those.

"Morelli's?"

"No. Got them to sleep in a long time ago. You know I can't resist a sale. I don't wear them much because they're too big for me, but I like how they feel against my skin."

"You want me to wear women's underwear?" he asked with a smile.

"Actually they're from the men's department, but a woman owns them and has worn them. Suit yourself. I'll be right back," I said as I went to the bathroom to do my thing.

I came back to see Ranger on top of my bed in my Snoopy as Joe Cool silk boxers. He looked so out of place that he looked cute. He almost needed to have a stuffed teddy bear in his arms to make the picture perfect.

I turned off all the lights and got under the covers. "Good night, Ranger."

"Sleep with the angels, Babe."

He rolled onto his side and put his arm across my midriff, nestled his face in my neck and was instantly back asleep. In so many ways it felt like we had been made to sleep together. It always felt amazing and they were some of the best sleeps of my life.

I heard Ranger's cell phone ring at about 4:30. He grunted into the phone and hung up. "Got a skip on the move. Gotta go," he said. I groaned, rolled over, and muttered something unintelligible. Before I was aware of anything else, he was gone.

I really didn't pay a lot of attention when Ranger left, but when I made the bed and tidied the bedroom I realized the boxers weren't here. I wonder if Ranger actually wore them the rest of the day?

xx

I had a message from Ronny to call about scheduling some more appointments. Was I available when the store opened? Sure, why not? It was a Vinnie day anyway.

I cleaned up and got a start on my day.

I had coffee with the girls at the bonds office, picked up files on two low bond skips and headed for Fairy Godmother's.

I got to the store right as Ronny opened the door. I got myself set up in the backroom and tried to turn myself on, but couldn't do it.

There was a tinkle over the door and all I could think was, 'Great, I'm not ready and my appointment is here.'

There was another delivery person. I was dreading what could be here now. I mean they'd been nice things I'd gotten from him/her/it, but it was awkward and strange. It turned out to be a box of Boston Crème doughnuts and the requisite card addressed to Palmist.

_Palmist,_

_You can't accept a big gift, I understand. I enclose your fee for three future sessions, which I may or may not be able to attend._

_I am prepared for you to exchange your fee for a used computer. In order to make this exchange work, go to the Trenton Boys and Girls Club and donate your fee. _

_A computer will be there for you until 12:00 noon tomorrow._

_CO_

_PS Ask someone about the three fold law_

_During the first period of a man's life the greatest danger is not to take the risk._

_ Soren Kierkegaard_

Ronny saw the note, old woman that he is, and read it when I did.

"Steph, the three fold law states that what you put out comes back to you three times or more. So things you do with a good intention come back three times better than you did them. The same with things motivated by malice. If you do something with mal intent, Lady Karma will bite you in the ass in ways you can't even begin to comprehend."

"So if I donate this money?"

"Then according to the law you will be blessed by the Universe three or more times the value of your donation."

Ronny insisted that I donate all of the money directly, he didn't want to cut into my blessings from the Universe.

Normally I would have taken my time and thought it over, but I didn't want to piss off the Universe right now. I drove down to the Boys and Girls Club and found the person responsible for donations.

"May I help you?"

"I'd like to make a donation."

"Let me get the receipt book. Just a second," the man said.

I dug the envelope from my purse and prepared to hand it over.

"Name please?"

"Why do you need my name?"

"Your donation might be tax deductible. You'll need to consult your tax preparer to know for certain."

I really didn't want to think about the IRS right now. I only wanted to think about them on April 14, the day I did my taxes and wrote the check.

"Stephanie Plum," I said.

He took the envelope and opened it. Then he counted the money, found and read a note that I'd overlooked. "Excuse me," he said.

He came back with a flat box and an envelope of his own addressed to the Palmist.

I opened the note and read it:

_Palmist,_

_Thank you for accepting this computer. Before you think you can't accept it, it was originally purchased as 'scratch and dent'._

_I look forward to talking to you soon._

_CO_

_PS there is some software pre-installed for your convenience_

_Also, I'm including a computer case, in the event you ever travel. The case is a little worn, leather survives longer than technology does._

"_If life were fair, Elvis would be alive and all the impersonators would be dead."_

_Johnny Carson_

I took the box home and opened it like it was a ticking bomb. It looked like a normal laptop. So far so good. I looked at the outside and couldn't find anything wrong with it until I saw a spot next to DVD player. I mean, I could tell that there'd been some wear on the keyboard, but other than that it looked perfect to me. The scratch wasn't even 1/8 of an inch long. For this it was considered scratch and dent?

I called Ranger. I figured that he had some great IT guys and I didn't really know what I was looking at. It was preventative maintenance, I told myself. This had nothing to do with the computer being from a potential stalker. This gift was feeling pretty intimate and the more I thought about it the more vulnerable I felt.

"Yo," he said.

"Yo to you, too. Hey, can I have one of the IT guys look over a new/used computer I just got?"

"Didn't think you were in the market."

"I wasn't, I had a great opportunity and I couldn't pass it up," I said.

"Erik can look at it for you in the next day or so. I'll let him know to expect it."

"Thanks."

"Anytime, Babe."

I didn't bother to wait for the non-existent 'good-bye' from Ranger. I'd heard it maybe twice in the whole time I knew him.

I went to the library and sent the perfunctory 'thank you'.

_CO,_

_Thank you for the laptop and the case. Are you sure there isn't some way I can pay you for it? It's incredibly generous._

_It may still be a couple of days before I'm on line at home. I have no idea how long it will take for me to hook up with an internet provider._

_Talk to you soon,_

_Palmist_

According to Erik, the computer was actually less than six months old with all the latest and greatest gizmos on it. It was about as nice as the one Ranger used until his most recent upgrade a couple of months ago. Not a bad exchange for three sessions worth of fees.

Erik made sure that the laptop wasn't going to communicate with Mars or something when I wasn't using it. He also did something to stop spyware, put on a virus thingie, and installed the standard Rangeman firewall. I asked Ranger to see if the standard Rangeman software packages and search programs could be installed, in case I ever needed to work from home. Erik installed all sorts of stuff and finally declared the laptop ready for action. At least one of us was.

When I got done at Rangeman, I packed up the laptop and headed out for the day. I was heading toward my car when Ranger pulled in.

"Babe."

"Hey. How're you doing?" I asked.

"Well enough. Are you going to start to work from home now that you have that?" he asked.

"Wasn't planning on it. It gets too lonely to work at home. I need to see people. Besides, I've got most of my junk-food squirreled away here."

He smiled. "Good to know."

"I've already thanked Erik, but I wanted to thank you, too," I said.

"For what?"

"Checking out the laptop. I mean he did the work, but you let him do it on your time. Thanks."

"No price."

"Right. Well I've got to get the show on the road. Like I said, thanks."

He nodded and entered the elevator.

OK, so it was still a little strained, but things were improving.


	20. Chapter 20

Nothing But Time On My Hands

Since I don't own them, I can only hope you enjoy them as much as I do.

Again, the betas who keep my keyboard out of the fire, I humbly salute you all!

**Nothing But Time On My Hands**

**Chapter 20**

By Alfonsina

I was starting to better understand about what Woody meant when he'd said palm reading was like learning how to read Chinese. For a long time it was a series of lines and slashes that you had to really think about, but after a while it became whole thoughts and images. After just a couple of months, I no longer even saw the lines on someone's hands as lines – they would just start to talk to me and tell me their stories, the lines not the people. If I held someone's hand long enough and just stayed in the moment, I could 'hear' things about what made the other person tick. Woody told me it was an advanced level maneuver, but I still had to read the palm to see what was there. People changed a lot and their background was still important to cover when talking to them. Yeah, yeah, but this other was so much easier.

I had read everyone in my family and found out things I never really wanted to know and re-enforced things I did know. Vinnie kept trying to get me to read his palm, but I didn't want to spend three minutes alone in a room with him, much less the ten minutes a quickie would take. More than that, I didn't think I'd be able to read all the ick in Vinnie's palm in ten minutes and I sure didn't want to start to hear it talk to me, it would be way too much information. I'd never be able to look him in the eye again.

xx

I headed for the library just to make sure I wasn't missing any important e-mails. Like the spam on refinancing my mortgage weren't scintillating enough, I kept hoping there'd be something from Cafe Ole. I was getting anxious to find out some of the particulars of this person. I'd been formulating questions.

The wait to use the computers was an hour and one-half. I couldn't afford to wait that long, so I headed to the store early. I hoped Marsha wouldn't be there and if she was that the grilling didn't leave any marks.

Waiting for me was another envelope. It had been delivered by yet a different messenger service.

There were instructions to call a certain number to get priority attention from the cable people to set up my internet connection. I used the regular phone book and called the main number. I found out there was a two week wait for installation. I didn't really like the idea of taking preferential treatment, but I was getting antsy to 'talk' more often.

I called the number that was provided in the note. It went straight to voicemail, someone named Marty. I left my cell phone number and figured I'd call the regular line to set up my appointment, just in case.

I was between appointments when I got a call from Marty. He said he could install the cable today if I could meet him at the Bath & Body Works store at the mall before 2:00. Seemed odd he didn't want my address, but this was his party.

I got there at 1:45 for the meeting with Marty. I hadn't asked what he looked like on the phone. I figured it was a chick store and likely there'd be very few men in it. The store was virtually empty when I got there, so we spotted each other pretty easily. He introduced himself and told me that he had something for me. Things were just getting odder and odder.

The envelope was addressed to Palmist. The note inside read:

_Palmist,_

_Thank you for letting Marty do the installation._

_I've found myself in short supply of friends lately. I've been enjoying myself and found myself looking forward to hearing from you._

_I hope you don't think I've overstepped, I'm just anxious and I'm not someone who becomes anxious very often._

_CO_

_PS Please get yourself anything you want, my treat, I've established a store credit here for you._

_I highly recommend the Moonlight Path bath items or the Lavender Vanilla fragrances._

_A dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world._

_ Oscar Wilde_

I talked to the clerk and asked if there was a store credit that had recently been established. She told me there was but couldn't pronounce the name. If I could spell it, she'd credit it to me. I spelled C-h-i-r-o-m-a-n-c—e-r and was told I had a one hundred dollar store credit. Somebody must think that either I spend a lot of time in the tub or I needed to spend a lot more time there.

In the end, I purchased a small shower gel and lotion in each of the scents written in the note … I also bought a couple of candles. I couldn't justify too much of anything, I had plenty of shower stuff at home and I got a discount on the candles from Ronny. Maybe I could use some of the credit to use to buy gifts?

After Marty showed me company ID, we agreed it was time to get me hooked up to the World Wide Web. He followed me out of the store and his truck followed my POS to my complex. I was glad I was still 'dressed' from work, just in case. CO seemed to be nice enough and didn't appear to be much of a stalker, but things could go upside down in my world pretty easily.

xx

Marty got everything hooked up and made sure that my laptop would connect before he left.

I asked about billing. It had already been taken care of. One year's worth of digital cable, phone service and internet had all been paid for by a Café Ole Inc.

Either Café Ole knew that I had financial set backs on a semi-regular basis, was very needy, or had a lot of money to throw away on someone he or she didn't even know.

I knew better than to call Tank this time. Ranger was in town and we all knew it. Besides, he might think that some of the investigation was a little lacking on Tank's part.

"Yo."

"Yo yourself, Ranger. Got a minute to talk?"

"Going to a meeting. What's it about?"

"I'm kind of uncomfortable. It could be a stalker or it could just be someone with too much time on their hands. If you're busy, I can talk to Tank about it, he's been part of this since the beginning."

"I can meet you in a couple of hours. I'll bring dinner," he said as he hung up.

Here's hoping it wasn't going to be an all veggie feast.

When he came to the door, he had two bags from Pino's. One had a sub for me and the other was his standard salad. He was dressed in tactical black and looked like he was ready to slay a dragon on my behalf.

I was given the choice to eat first or talk first. I decided that if it was bad news, I wouldn't want to eat after this was over, so we ate first.

He joined me in the living room and I gave him the surface facts.

"Before you go Rambo, it started with the flowers and a note on my car when you were out of town. I called Tank as soon as they were discovered. In fact, when you've been gone, Tank has followed up on the notes and stuff I've gotten from this person."

After I told him about all the broken appointments and the e-mails he said, "Could just be somebody who's lonely."

"Could be a stalker," I said. "I've had a few too many of those in my lifetime to be comfortable with some of this."

"What do you know about this person?" he asked.

"They like flowers, nice chocolates, and bath stuff," I said. "Oh and trading e-mails. E-mails with lots of strange quotes."

"You could be getting things he or she thinks you would like," he said. "Maybe the quotes are because he or she isn't so good with words but wants you to know something about him or her."

"Can we just use the word 'he' because I don't tend to draw attention from too many women," I said.

"If you want. How did you first get in touch with this person?"

"I sent a thank you e-card for the flowers," I said.

"Babe, you didn't have a computer," he said. Thank God he didn't go on about not talking to strangers, it was a conversation we'd had in the past and it would've been a lousy re-run.

"Went to the library. It was easy and untraceable to me if they were a real crazy. Besides, it's not like I used my own name or anything on the e-mail account."

"I can have Silvio look into it, if you want. Right now it sounds like _he_ is trying to be nice to you. Like I said, lonely," he said.

"But," I started.

"Stephanie, not everyone has all the friends they need. You never seem to have a shortage of either friends or enemies."

"What about the cable bill and the computer and stuff? That's just too much."

"You can always shut off the internet, donate the computer and use the library's equipment," he said. "Follow your own conscious."

The edge that had been missing from his voice for a couple of weeks was there now. This conversation was beginning to remind me of the conversation about going to Beltane with Woody, things were quickly becoming terse. All he needed to do was tell me I was a big girl and I could make my own decisions and we'd be back to square one.

"I'll mull it over. If the guilt gets to me, I'll shut it all off and donate the computer. Good idea," I said hoping to placate him just a little. "Hey, are you ever going to let me look at your palm? At least let me feel your fingers move, please?"

Master of distractions in bars and in public, yes. Master of distraction in my own home, hardly.

"Not such a good idea right now, Babe. Maybe another time," he said rising to leave.

I followed him to the door so I could lock up behind him when he kissed me. I usually just shut down everything when he kissed me so I could get lost in the sensation, no matter how brief. I couldn't get lost in it tonight, I felt every nuance. This kiss was full of all kinds of emotion, most of it conflicting, all tinged with sadness.

"You alright, Ranger?" I asked.

"Working on it. Night, Babe," he said as he walked out the door.

I was tired so turned in for the night. Curiosity did get the better of me in the morning. I booted up the computer and immediately connected with the internet.

I already had a message. It had been sent the night before at 3:36.

_Palmist,_

_I thought you might be getting curious about me by now. I'm surprised you haven't asked anything personal about me yet. Remember you were the one who said rules were made to be broken, or in this case vacated._

_In general terms, I can safely tell you:_

_I am male, somewhere between 21 and 45. I am divorced and have been for more years than I was ever married. Still single. One child as a result of the marriage, the best thing to come of it._

_High cholesterol runs in my family. I try to avoid medications by controlling my diet and moderate exercise._

_I like things that are challenges._

_Your turn,_

_CO_

"_Imagination gallops; judgment merely walks"  
unknown_

This was either a night owl or somebody who didn't need a lot of sleep. I flexed my fingers and made several attempts. I sent something that was pretty lame, but at least I sent something.

_CO,_

_Okey dokey, in general terms I'll tell you about me._

_You already know I'm female and in the same age bracket as you stated. _

_I'm not married and am also divorced. No boyfriend. No kids. _

_I do freelance work. Some for a family member, some for a friend's business and the palmistry you already know about._

_My family thrives on high fat and high cholesterol. I should probably start to watch it now, but haven't really paid attention yet._

_Palmist_

_PS you can safely say the exercise isn't my thing, but I could watch other people do it all day long._

I sent a second e-mail and marked it 'thank you'.

_CO,_

_Aren't you getting tired of doing nice things for me?_

_You've been incredibly generous, but I'm out of my depth. I'd like to do something for you in exchange but economically couldn't keep up if I tried._

_Actually I could, but I wouldn't be able to pay rent or my car insurance._

_I have a hard enough time taking gifts from people. For example, a friend bought me something nice to wear, I wear it a lot and love it, but I always feel guilty about it. I'm afraid I'll ruin it somehow; I'm kind of accident prone._

_Thanks for your generosity, it means a lot but is unnecessary and not expected._

_Hoping you have a great whatever this is when you open it,_

_Palmist_

xx

The big date between Sheldon and Grandma arrived, finally. It was set for mid-afternoon so they could do an early bird special somewhere for dinner afterwards. I was dressed in light weight capris, sandals and tank-top with an over-shirt, you never know how warm or how cold those places are going to be. I had on just enough makeup to accentuate my eyes and cheekbones, but not so much that I looked like I was out on the prowl.

Grandma was in a purple monstrosity that she and Lula had picked out some weeks ago. Grandma said that purple was a royal color and if she wore enough of it, some man might treat her like a queen. Great idea, but I doubted it would work any time soon.

Sheldon looked like Sheldon, waist on his sansabelt pants around his chest, polyester shirt clinging to his skin, and white patent leather shoes. Yep, Sheldon was a fashion plate from the Land that Time Forgot. So long as he was happy.

Binky looked very un-Binky-esque. He was in a pair of loose navy blue chinos and a madras plaid shirt, also with sandals. He looked kind of preppy and that just wasn't how I was used to seeing him. Then again, this is the first time I hadn't seen most of his muscles on display, either. In terms of the general public, he had oodles of muscles. Comparing him to the rest of the Rangemen, he wasn't quite as ripped, he was definitely fit looking. He had the obligatory six pack, but it looked like he had a Snickers bar once in a while. He was most definitely hot, but he was very approachable in a blonde, blue eyed, surfer kind of a way.

I thought Grandma and I would beat them to the bowling alley by showing up fifteen minutes early. I wanted time in case I needed to add make-up at the last minute. In order to be early, I had to tell Grandma her date was actually earlier than it was to make sure I got her out the door on time. We got out of the car just as the guys parked. I wasn't sure if that was good timing or not.

It felt like I had a double date with my grandmother. In a lot of ways I did have a double date with my grandmother. If Lula had a hard time when I was with Zero, his wife and Woody, I couldn't wait to hear what she'd have to say about this.

We entered the building together, Binky held the door open for all of us.

He took his grandfather aside and apparently gave him some money and spoke low into his ear. I really hoped he wasn't going to give his grandfather the talk about the birds and the bees. Since by way of Grandma I knew Sheldon had been married at least once and had six kids of his own, I figured he had the mechanics down. At least once upon a time, he had the mechanics down.

The lovebirds went to the counter and got shoes and arranged for bowling balls.

"Steph?" Binky asked.

"Yeah Binky?"

"Would you rather shoot some pool? There's a pool hall a couple of doors down and I really don't want to chaperone my grandfather."

"Sounds good to me," I said. "Grandma, Binky and I are going to play pool. Call me when you are ready for us to pick you up."

"Take your time, kid. Take plenty of time," she said with a wink.

Binky and I left and walked to his car. We headed to Moe's. It was a local pool hall without any ambiance, but the price was right and it was pretty empty.

"So do you play very often?" I asked.

"Not any more. I played a lot on base when I was in the military. It was a way to kill the time," he said.

"I haven't played for fun in an age," I said. "Usually I play pool now for a distraction."

"I know. I'm just lucky you aren't dressed for a distraction, I have a chance to beat you when you're wearing pants."

"I can always go home and put on a halter top, heels and really, really short skirt," I said with a wink.

"I like my odds better this way," he said. "Do you want to play for anything in particular or just for fun?"

"Winner buys drinks?" I asked.

"Nah. I already planned to pay for pool and drinks," he said. "How about we play our own form of Truth or Dare?"

"Nothing too wild and it's got to be stuff that can be done or seen in public, OK?"

"Actually I was just thinking of restricting it to questions," he said. "Winner gets to control the conversation and have at least one personal question answered."

"You're on."

I knew I could win, this was my game. I had no doubts about my skill. I was confident up until the precise moment when I realized I'd lost. It was then that I realized I usually beat my skips wearing something tight and revealing, while playing those famous x-rated games with the straw in my drink. There was a reason it was called distraction, but I never put two and two together. Shit.

Binky won the first round handily. It's not like I wasn't trying, but despite the looseness of his clothes, he was still incredibly distracting. He wasn't flexing, at least not intentionally, and he wasn't wiggling his ass, again not intentionally, he was just being himself and moving like a very well built cat. Damn, I needed to have a private moment.

After the first game he said, "Let's sit and have a drink while I think of my questions."

"Sure," I said with my fingers crossed.

He ordered a pitcher of beer and poured two glasses.

"Ok, let's start with an easy one," he said handing me my glass.

"Shoot."

"Am I really your favorite?"

"Where did you hear that?" I asked. I didn't remember ever having a favorite Rangeman unless it was the one who just happened to save me from myself or a skip on a particular day. I liked them all, not equally, but I definitely liked them all.

"Right before you started reading palms. We were all on a stakeout and you said Tank and Lester were two of your favorites and so was I. Did you mean it?"

I couldn't for the life of me remember, but he was cute and we did have a good time together and he didn't try to hit on me, so I guess he was up in the top five.

"Well, you are most definitely in the top five," I said.

"OK, there's Tank, Woody, Lester, Ranger and me, right?" he asked.

"Take Ranger out of the list and add Silvio," I said.

"Silvio?"

"Yeah, I always learn something from him and I've never once broken him," I said.

He didn't ask why Ranger was pulled from the list or why the others were on it. I dodged a bullet right there. Besides, Ranger was Batman and not a Merry Man. There is a difference, isn't there?

"Ok, next question. How do you like to approach relationships?"

"I don't approach them. You know I'm not big on planning, Mr. I-Always-Keep-Spare-Weapons-and-Ammo-in-my-glove-box. Stuff usually happens and I deal with it once it does, why?"

"I was wondering if you put as much work into finding relationships for yourself as you did for Woody," he said with a smile.

"Nope. That was a one-time occurrence, I doubt I'll do anything like it again," I said.

"Not even for yourself?"

"No. I tend to do better if I fly by the seat of my pants," I said.

"And lovely seat it is," he said with a smile.

"Smart ass."

"Time to play some more," he said dragging me from my stool.

It seemed that Binky was an ass man, at least based on that conversation. I have an ass that's shakeable and shapely, sort of, I could and did use it to advantage. I won that round.

"OK. My turn," I said with glee.

"Oh God, here it comes. I'll answer before you ask. No, I didn't help my grandfather get dressed for his date," he said.

"Nice try, but that wasn't it," I said.

"I know what it is. You want to know why I'm called 'Binky' and not Brian, don't you?"

I smiled my answer.

"I'm the oldest of five and only boy. The youngest, Denise, is fourteen years younger than me. When she was little, she had a blanket she took with her wherever she went and it made her feel better," he said.

So far so good.

"She was kind of accident prone and fell down a lot. Someone always needed to rock her. At some point when she was three or four, I became her security blanket and when she was upset or needed to be held, she wanted _her Binky_ to rock her and hold her. Over time I just became Binky to everyone. It was a bit of a problem when I left for bootcamp. She made a huge fuss when the family went to see me off. She kept screaming, '_Don't take my Binky. I need my Binky. Give me back my Binky.'_ One of the other recruits thought I had her security blanket and tried to get me to open my duffel and give it to her. When they found out it was me and not some blanket, I got hit with the name there, too. The name's followed me since I was sixteen or seventeen. And for the record, I don't care how it is spelled. It could be spelled Binky, Binkie or even Binquie, only Denise is allowed to call me the Binkinator."

"That's sweet," I said.

"Yeah, but it was pretty hard to live with. I think it is part of why I decided to try for sniper school. I was trying to combat my nickname in a non-confrontational way. I did wash out of sniper school, but I'm still pretty good at sneaking up on people."

"But your grandfather calls you Brian," I said. What did he mean by the sneaking up comment? Was there something I needed to be careful about?

"He uses pretty much everyone's formal name unless he's dating them," he said, "then he goes for names like sweetheart and honey."

"Time to play some more," I said.

We'd been talking about the same amount of time as we had the last time and I didn't want to leave him on the hot seat for too long. I had a feeling the boy played tit for tat and I knew I didn't want to be on the hot seat long at all, the idea of it made me feel jumpy.

There were no ifs ands or buts about it, Binky was a pool shark and beat me handily the next game.

We returned to our stools when he asked what most of the office had wanted to know.

"Did you really dress down Ranger the day of all the physicals?" he asked.

"Weren't you there? You had to have a physical that day, too."

"Mine was the first one of the day at 7:00. I was long since gone before you had your talk with the guys. What made it happen? Are you and Ranger still and item?"

I wanted to say butt out, but couldn't. This was Truth or Dare and somehow we never got to the Dares and it was all Truth.

I sighed. "Ranger and I have never been a couple, despite appearances. Ranger doesn't do relationships and I won't be with him unless there is some kind of semblance of a relationship. He crossed the line with some things he was implying. I think it's just because he doesn't want me but he doesn't want anyone else to have me either."

"No shit?"

"No shit," I said quietly.

"And are you technically on the market then?" he asked.

"If you mean am I single and available, yes. If you are asking if I'm actively looking, we've already had that discussion."

"But if you fell into something with someone who perhaps had sandy blonde hair and blue eyes …"

"Maybe, but not holding my breath right now."

"If I have to continue to drop my grandfather off to see your grandmother, can we continue to meet and just hang out?" he asked.

"I'd like to hang out with you," I said. Hanging out is good, right? No commitments, no pressure, no hassle. I could do that.

"Good, because two days from now they're going to go to the movies," he said.

Oh boy. I was saved by the bell, or actually by my cell phone. The kids, as Binky was calling them, had bowled enough games to develop blisters. We were going to take them so they could have dinner, but Grandma's dentures were loose and she didn't have any spare adhesive.

Binky got Sheldon settled into his car while I settled Grandma in mine. He came back before I could leave the lot.

"I'll talk to you tomorrow to sync our schedules," Binky said as he gave me a quick peck on the lips. If it was a car accident it would have been hit and run, but this was peck and gone.

"So wanna talk about our fellas?" Grandma asked. "I knew you weren't a complete fuddy duddy. You are gonna keep this one. He's not dating you so he can date somebody else, is he?"

"He's not my fella and we aren't dating," I said with a sigh. "Right now I think I'm getting a headache. Can we just listen to the radio on the way home?"

"Spoil sport," she said.

xx

When I came home there was a reply to the thank you.

_Palmist,_

_I saw an Irish blessing the other day, and no I'm not of Irish decent._

_May you have the hindsight to know where you've been  
the foresight to know where you're going  
and the insight to know when you're going too far._

_I don't always have the insight to know when I've gone too far. _

_I'm sorry I've made you uncomfortable. But I need more people in my life to talk to and you seem to be that person._

_I don't have anyone else to be generous with right now. My only child lives in another state and usually my only contact is on the phone or web-cams; it's a difficult situation._

_I don't expect anything from you in exchange. My grandmother was very old fashioned and used to say that 'the pleasure of your company is all that was ever expected'. This is how you can repay me, keep me company by sending periodic e-mail._

_If you want me to back away, I will; but I'd rather not._

_CO_

_PS I'm sure your friend bought you the item (clothing?) because he or she wanted to, not to make you feel guilty or obligated._

_We make a living by what we get. We make a life by what we give._

_ Winston Churchill_

Before I went to bed, I decided to send a quick note.

_CO,_

_I need more friends right now, too._

_You don't need to back away._

_Hoping you have a nice evening,_

_Palmist_

_PS I heard this at a wedding a long time ago. And no, I'm not Irish either:_

_He who loses money, loses much;  
He who loses a friend, loses more;  
He who loses faith, loses all._

_Don't lose faith in people or in anything, really. Please?_

xx

I headed into Rangeman to keep my hours up and wasn't looking while I was walking. I walked smack into Ranger's backside. It was firm as a wall, but much more fun to look at.

"Babe."

"Sorry about that."

"Have you made any decisions about what to do with the computer?"

"Yeah, I'll keep it for now. Oh and it's somebody who's lonely like you said."

"Anything else?"

"He's male, no big surprise. It sounds like he's a businessman. Bad marital history. Gave an age range, probably older than younger. Hasn't described himself yet, probably short, squashy looking, and bald."

Ranger laughed for the first time in what seemed like months, "Decided all that from a few words, did you?"

"Well the marital thing was pretty evident since he spelled it out, so was the business thing. People who aren't overly fond of their looks don't tend to describe themselves. Heavy people say stuff like 'Rubenesque' or voluptuous. People who are bald don't usually say anything about hair unless they shave their heads like Zero does. Stuff like that. I'm not worried, he's just going to be a friend."

"Hope he knows that."

"Me too. But if I were you, I'd describe myself as 'Greek god' you know like Zeus or Aries or something," I blurted. I blushed as soon as I said it. It was true to my eyes.

"How would you describe yourself?"

"Average with blue eyes." In my mind that was me. I'm average height, average weight and consider myself to have average looks. He frowned at me. I took the frown as some kind of a challenge so I said, "What? I happen to like the color of my eyes."


	21. Chapter 21

Nothing But Time On My Hands

Disclaimer: All in fun and, hopefully, a wee-bit of enjoyment.

Without my betas to keep me on the straight and narrow, this story wouldn't have gone beyond the first chapter. Ladies, please take a big bow. The cheering you hear is me! Thank you!

Nothing But Time On My Hands  
Chapter 21  
By Alfonsina

The Saturday before the summer solstice, Marsha and Ronny tried to get me to go to the public ritual after the store closed. They said there was no big formal festival like there was for Beltane, just a potluck and a bonfire afterwards. The people I'd met the last time were nice and it was tempting, but I had promised to take Grandma on her date.

Binky and I called what we were doing as hanging out, but we were doing it a lot. Hanging out had less pressure and no expectations, and so far there had been no real kissing just some flirting. Once we'd dropped the kids off to an early bird dinner and we'd had coffee and pie in a different part of the same restaurant. Our outings were short, friendly and very comfortable. We'd only _doubled,_ as Grandma called it once, I was just taking it at face value, even the quick peck on the lips at the end of our time together.

We spent a lot of time together in just a couple of weeks. It was some of the most fun I'd had in ages. Who would've thought Binky was fun? He was always so serious at work. He was incredibly uptight about maintaining the 'bleeding edge' of technology at the office, said we couldn't afford to ever get out of date. He sounded a lot like Ranger did when Ranger talked about the importance of technology.

Sheldon and Grandma were dating and doing other things, which were far less tame than what Binky and I had been up to. Tonight they were going to watch a movie and Binky wanted to ice-skate. The rink wasn't too far from the theatre and it took us both out of the awkward role of chaperone, thank goodness.

Ice-skating would have been fun, if I'd ever ice-skated before. He, however, had been on a hockey team in high school and still found great pleasure in going around in a circle wearing two knives and ugly boots. I really hoped he wasn't going to show off his hockey skills. I like my teeth just where they are, thanks.

"I'm kind of rusty, but this should be fun," he said.

"I've never done this before. I roller-skated for the last time when I was ten, and this is something that will take more coordination than that did. Just how rusty are you?" I asked. I wasn't feeling confident and was wondering if I had enough Ben Gay at home for the muscles that were sure to be sore the next day.

"I won't drop you, promise."

"Drop me? What do you mean drop me?" I asked. Hey, I've watched ice skating on TV, I've seen those fancy lifts; no way was he doing that to me. We'd both land on our asses in front of who knows how many people.

"Sorry, I mean let go of you. I'll help you find your center of gravity. Once you get comfortable, it can feel like flying around the rink."

"I know exactly where my center of gravity is. I didn't think it was going to be important for this," I said.

"Never underestimate the importance of your center of gravity," he said as he patted my rump. Definitely Binky was an ass man.

He paid our admissions and my skate rental; he'd brought his own skates. He spent what felt like forever reviewing the rental skates. He finally settled upon a pair of men's, ultra ugly, black skates for me.

I wrinkled my nose when I saw the boots; they weren't white, small or cute. They looked like what Granddad used to call 'clod hoppers'. Sure technically they would work, but cute just wasn't a word I'd use to describe the footwear before me.

"Steph, don't make any faces. The boots are in great shape, almost new. No one will see them under your jeans, promise. People are much more intrigued by your other assets, I promise. _And_ if you need me to, I'll vouch for your femininity."

Jerk.

I hadn't gotten my own shoes off, never mind one boot on, and he was already laced up and on the ice. He'd lapped the rink three times before I got the second boot on. Either he was working off hormones of his own or he was showing off. Maybe it was a little of both.

He glided back to the side and came to the bench I was sitting on and took over my attempts at lacing the boots. He kept tightening the laces until I didn't think I was going to have any circulation left in my ankles or my feet.

"You can't get away with wearing them loose, it's one of the fastest ways to fall," he said.

He took my hand and helped me stand. He even helped me wander over to the entrance of the ice.

"Ready?" he asked.

"No, but I'll do it anyway," I said.

"Ok. Shoulders back, hips forward and head up."

Why did that just sound sexy somehow to me? Maybe I needed to be able to go around the rink quickly to extinguish my own hormones. Maybe I just needed to come into an ice rink when I just needed to cool off a little.

I admit that I did stumble some, OK, a lot. I stumbled a lot and Binky caught me almost every time. The one time he didn't catch me, I pulled him down with me. He actually landed on top of me. It would've been much more fun if we hadn't been in a public place because things were lining up in a very interesting way. He had to scramble to get off of me and get us both up before someone, namely me, got even more embarrassed.

After the first forty-five minutes, the Zamboni was called out to resurface the ice. We drank bad hot chocolate from a vending machine. We made small talk and stood close enough to share body heat and Binky provided plenty of that. Who would have thought that mid-June and hot chocolate would go so well together?

"Gonna go anywhere before summer's over?" I asked him.

"I'm going to head to Indiana for a few days," he said.

"Seeing family?" I asked, "Or is it a pleasure trip?"

"My daughter lives there with her mother," he said quietly.

I didn't realize he'd ever been married.

"I didn't mean to invade your privacy," I said.

"Actually, my daughter's the love of my life. Her mother and I just couldn't make a go of it."

"You're pretty far away from your child," I said.

"I can't make a living there, I tried. There's not a lot of need for my skills in that community; the part of the state they're in is pretty rural. The town only has two-thousand people and one stop light. But it is a great place to be a kid, everyone knows you there."

I rubbed his forearm to let him know I was still listening. Why did women seem to break the hearts of the Merry Men? They all deserved to find happily ever after.

"I miss her, but I see her when I can. Besides, I get along better with her mother when there is distance between us. As long as we're talking about relationships, I know you don't have kids. Been married?"

Hunh, Binky must be the only person in the tri-state area that didn't hear about my divorce from The Dick. He must have been in Indiana still when The Great Emasculation occurred. I guess I should've tried harder to get CNN, FOX and MSNBC in on the story. My break up with The Dick was the thing of legends. After a marriage that lasted about 15 minutes, I came home to find found him polishing my dining room table with Joyce Barnhardt. After some quick thinking on my part, photos of the dirty deed were sent to every news agency in the tri-state area. Needless to say, my marriage and Dickie's potential political career came to an end. Well, we didn't need to spoil the mood by going into all that.

"Yeah. Been there, done that and own the t-shirt. Let's just say that Rex, my hamster, is a better partner and more communicative than Dickie ever could be. Enough about the bad stuff, we're supposed to have fun here."

"You're right about that. On to even more pressing matter; tell me, are you ticklish?"

"Wouldn't you just like to find out?" I asked with a huge smile. I am incredibly ticklish and it could be fun letting him find out where.

"Most definitely, but you'll never see the sneak attack."

When the ice had been sufficiently smoothed, there was an announcement over the PA. The rink was to be restricted to couples only; the lights dimmed and the music was slow. I was part of a couple with Binky. We looked at each other and headed back to the ice.

He held me more closely than before as he guided me back around the rink. At one point, he actually turned me around so he was going forwards directing traffic and I was being pushed backwards moving my feet when his moved. He had a hand on my hip and the other wrapped around my hand. I placed one hand on his shoulder and the other wound up between us. We kept inching closer together.

The experience was exhilarating, it was exciting, and it was pretty damned good. Just when it would have been a good time, in my humble estimation, for him to kiss me, his phone rang. He pulled the phone out of his pocket and checked the display. He guided us to the side and answered it.

"Hello?" Pause. "Really?" Pause. "Sorry about that." Pause. "Probably another twenty or so minutes." Pause. "None of your damn business." Pause. "Because I said so, that's why. Stay out of trouble until we come back. See you soon, Grandpa."

"Is it time to leave?" I asked sounding almost as disappointed as I felt.

"Yeah. Your grandmother got them ejected from the movie for shouting at the screen and not settling down when the manager asked her the third time."

Oh boy.

"Sorry about that," I said.

He just smiled, closed his eyes and went in for the kiss. It was amazing. If it hadn't been for the air conditioning and the ice, I probably would have melted into the ground. I didn't think I ever wanted to come up for air again. I could kiss Binky for hours on end, in a warmer place, but you know what I mean. My whole body tingled and hummed. It was almost as good as being kissed by Ranger, not quite, but damned close.

We got back to the benches and changed shoes. He held my hand as we headed back to the car and then he kissed me again. This was longer, slower and felt incredibly decadent.

When he broke the kiss he asked, "Steph?"

"Yeah," I said feeling like there were any number of things I'd really like to do to him and soon, tickling being the least of them. I knew we'd both been tested for STDs during our physicals and that my IUD was in place and would be effective now. Besides, I had the stash of condoms I bought for Beltane with Woody that I'd not so much as opened.

"Did you feel a tingle just now?" he asked.

"Tingle?" Hell my whole body felt like it had been set on fire and there was only one way to put it out!

"Yeah, did you feel a tingle just now or the other time I kissed you?" he asked.

"Uh-huh," I said. I was quiet for about three seconds before I blurted out, "What? You didn't, did you? I'm not a good kisser, am I?"

"No, you are an amazing kisser. I just got the feeling I was kissing my cousin or something. It was good, but the tingle is missing for me," he said with a sigh.

"Do you want to try again?" I breathed. Please, say yes, please?

"I just did. I hoped I was wrong the first time, I'm sorry. I wanted to get the tingle when I kissed you, kind of like a sign to go on. I didn't get it," he said shaking his head. Well at least he had the good taste to look a little disappointed at the lack of a tingle.

"Well, better to find out now, I guess. And for the record, you tingle me down to my toes," I said with a small smile.

"Friends?" Binky asked.

"Always," I said. I hugged him close and then we got into the car to retrieve our grandparents.

We pulled out of the lot when I noticed a black SUV in the back of the lot. It probably wasn't Ranger's or part of the Rangeman fleet. Rangeman vehicles were easily identifiable, dust didn't dare to stick to them and this rig was filthy dirty. Then again, if Binky saw it regardless of dirt, it might've been why he claimed to feel no tingle. Guess I'll never really know for sure because my ego doesn't want to know the answer.

Once again, Grandma wanted to compare her date to mine. At least this time I didn't have to worry about damage to a hotel room or other antics. Sheldon's glasses were expected to be repaired in another day or so anyway, so Binky probably would have run out of reasons to see me either way.

xx

I was glad not to have been home alone on a Saturday evening; it was the big summer solstice bonfire and potluck. I couldn't get the comment Woody made about it out of his mind; that he and Morgan were going to perform the great rite that night. I was glad for them and a little envious. But the idea of a full body check for ticks afterwards kind of got to me. I guess I'm not really 'back to nature' girl.

Marsha told me that regardless of if I had to make a living or not, she was serious about me working the list. Terrific. I thought that conversation had died out and gone away.

xx

On the actual evening of summer solstice, I was supposed to do a distraction in Hamilton Township and it was supposed to be an early evening take down. I brought my outfit, rollers and extra make up with me so I could change in Ranger's apartment after my shift ended.

I was just about to go upstairs when my phone rang. Caller ID showed it was the doctor's office. It was 5:45 and a little late for them to be calling now. I wasn't sick and I didn't have another appointment for months.

"Hello."

"This is Mike Jamison. May I speak with Stephanie Plum?"

"Speaking. What can I do for you Dr. Jamison?" I was hoping he wasn't trying to make good on his offer to fix me up with one of his friends. If his friends were anything like him, they were gym rats, too and I wasn't in near good enough shape to date someone like that.

"The results from your recent Pap smear have recently come back. I sent them out for a second opinion. We'd like to have you come back to retest…."

That was enough to bring me back to reality. After a couple of seconds to register the conversation, all I heard him say was 'retest'. I am sure he went on talking for a while, but I dropped the phone and slunk into my chair. I accidentally rolled over the phone with my chair and killed it. I hope it was insured.

As a rule, doctors don't call after their offices have closed for the day. Doctors don't call unless something is big, bad and ugly; that's why they have staff. This was obviously in the big, bad and ugly phase since Dr. Jamison was calling himself. Oh God.

I was staring straight ahead and couldn't form words when my desk phone started to ring. I'd already gone into pre-emptive shock.

"Stephanie? It's Dr. Jamison again. We were cut off and now your other line isn't answering. Are you OK?"

"Yeah, just fine. Retest. You want me to retest. Why?" I supported my forehead with my hand and closed my eyes.

"… some abnormal and potentially pre-cancerous cells. It's probably nothing, but we need to look into it just in case."

"Sure. Fine. When do you want me back?"

There was silence while he was looking up something in the scheduler. I thought he'd hung up and gone home but I never got that weird sound on the line that indicated it was just me sitting and waiting for someone to talk to me.

He finally came back on the line and named a time and date. I agreed and wrote it down.

I was still sitting at my desk twenty minutes later, staring at precisely nothing.

"Steph. You need to get ready, we've got to go soon," Zip said.

I nodded. I didn't say a word.

Five minutes later Erik walked past, "Steph, you've got to get a move on … Are you ok?

"Sure. Fine."

"You don't look fine. Let me get Bobby," he said over his shoulder making what haste he could.

I have no idea how much time passed when Bobby was standing next to me trying to get my attention. I could see his mouth moving but I couldn't hear any words except "pre-cancerous", "re-check" and "second opinion" playing over and over and over in my mind.

Bobby picked up the receiver from my phone and called Ranger. "Cancel tonight. Something's not right with Steph." Pause. "No, I don't know what it is but I can't get her attention. Looks like she's in shock."

I waved my hand at Bobby and shook my head. I licked my lips and shook my head again. I knew the headshake was a lie and evidently Bobby did too.

"Like I said, Ranger, cancel the op for tonight. She goes in tonight somebody might get hurt," he said as he hung up the phone.

"Steph, honey, can you tell me about it?" Bobby asked.

I shook my head. I was afraid that if I opened my mouth something nonsensical would come out. He'd heard me ramble before, but this would be exceptional even for me. I hadn't even realized tears had welled in my eyes. I attempted to look at him and could barely see him. I mouthed the word "Home."

He started to walk me to the elevators so he could drive me home when we ran into Ranger. They exchanged a glance and I was passed from the protective custody of one man and into the next. Ranger put his arm over my shoulder and brought me in close to him as we made our way silently to the garage.

He didn't say a word as he got me into the BMW. Still nothing was said as we drove through town to my apartment. I handed him my door-keys, not that he needed them, and he opened the door.

"Stephanie, Babe, are you OK? What happened?"

I didn't answer. I was looking for my voice. I finally found it and said, "I'm probably overreacting. You know me." I was convincing no one in the room.

"Babe, you don't even bat an eyelash when a car explodes, you just admire the flames. This has you rattled. Will you tell me?" he said. "Please?"

"It's probably nothing. Like I said, overreacting," I told him.

"You shouldn't be alone," he said, "whatever this is."

"I'm not great company right now, Ranger."

He was once again the immovable force and planted himself on my sofa.

"Let me just be here for you. Can you trust me to do that?"

"You should know this isn't a matter of trust. It's just something I want to pretend isn't happening. I'm going to have a bath and try to relax a little," I said. "If you want to stay, make yourself at home. You know where everything is."

I headed to the bathroom as I heard him saying, "Off line until tomorrow. Interrupt me only if someone's dead and you're at the morgue."

xx

About an hour later I came out of the bathroom. Ranger was on the sofa trying to look interested in whatever was on TV. On the kitchen table were two covered plates. He'd called Ella and had some comfort food delivered; pork chops and homemade mac and cheese. There was one small piece of raspberry cheesecake; I knew it had to be for me. Ranger probably never let Philadelphia's best known product, cream cheese, pass his lips.

After we finished eating, he insisted on doing the dishes.

"Go home and go to bed, Ranger. You've been looking tired lately," I said.

"You don't look like you should be alone. I'd really like to stay and be here for you."

"I've faced worse, this just caught me off guard. It'll all be fine. It's a tempting offer and I might take you up on it another time, OK?" Sure I'd faced worse, but usually there was someone or multiple someones who helped me in those situations; this was something I was going to deal with on my own.

"Babe."

"Go on, really. If I can't sleep, I can always cruise the internet at 2:00 a.m. Who knows? Maybe I'll stumble on some bounty hunting tips and tricks. I've never looked for those before."

He gave me a brief kiss on the temple as he headed out the door.

"Call if you ..."

"Promise, I'll call if I need anything. Thanks for keeping me company, Ranger."

I locked the door and staggered into bed. I was emotionally exhausted. I knew there was nothing I could do but retest and wait, but waiting was never my strong suit.

Something woke me up at 2:00 a.m. It felt like a hand shaking my shoulder to get my attention, but when I opened my eyes, I realized how alone I was. I did a quick check of the apartment and confirmed it was just Rex and me. I tried to go back to sleep. No luck.

I turned on the computer and thought I'd check Yahoo just in case.

There was an e-mail time stamped 5:25 p.m. labeled Happy Solstice

_Palmist,_

_I noticed today was the first official day of summer.  
Happy Summer Solstice._

_I thought you might celebrate the change of seasons.  
I celebrate most things by working. I'm pretty boring._

_I just figured it would be nice to acknowledge it to someone._

_CO_

_Always do right. This will gratify some people and astonish the rest.__  
Mark Twain_

I decided I wanted to tell someone, anyone really, about today's news. I felt pretty sure if I did it this way, I might feel a little better. There wouldn't be a lot of questions to answer that I had no answers to myself.

I labeled the e-mail Not Celebrating

_CO_

_I spend a lot of time working and seem to only celebrate  
holidays when I get reminded of them by someone else. In  
fact, I was actually supposed to work tonight. Duty and the  
wallet are impressive task masters._

_I got a call from my doctor late today. I had a complete  
physical the other day, not my idea of a great time. Anyway  
he wants me to re-do one of the tests to validate some  
results. After that phone call I knew I just became numb._

_I can deal with bad news if I can just get it over with. I don't  
play waiting games very well._

_Besides, when I freaked out, it caused the company I  
freelance for to cancel a job they'd had on the books._

_So I feel bad on two fronts: 1. Uncertainty (not something  
I'm especially good at) and 2. Disappointing the people I  
work for and with, especially my boss._

_Sorry to unload. I just needed to tell someone. If I've  
overstepped, let me know._

_Palmist_

I checked the weather in cities around the world, I may not be able to afford to travel but I could still see how the other half lived. Then I read headlines from USAToday, crime is up and economic factors are down, no good news there. I read a bunch of funnies on line, laughter is supposed to be the best medicine, but nothing was funny to me.

I had killed about half an hour and was getting ready to go back to bed when I realized there was a response to my e-mail.

_Palmist,_

_If you need someone to talk to about your medical issues, I  
can listen. I may not be able to help, but I've been alone  
with bad news. It can be the loneliest feeling in the world._

_If you want to give more details, do what makes you  
comfortable. I will be here for as much or as little support  
as you want or need. You have my word and I don't give it  
lightly._

_I've got medical connections, so if you need the name of a  
specialist for a second opinion, I can help with that._

_Not much you can do about uncertainty. Life is uncertain.  
There is risk in almost everything._

_The people you work with would probably be understanding  
if you decide to tell them. People will surprise you with their  
kindness if you let them._

_You don't seem like a night-owl, so you should probably go  
to bed._

_Take care and let me know if I can help._

_CO_

_Don't worry about treading lightly, I can handle most things  
and accept most others. Besides, we need to start to trust  
each other, do you agree?_

_Be careful about reading health books. You may die of a misprint._

_ Mark Twain_

It seemed weird to me that I could apparently trust a stranger. But this whole situation seemed a little strange, so let the good times roll. People bond over all kinds of things on the internet and have all sorts of discussion groups. Looked like I just started my own group of two.

I crawled into bed feeling not quite so alone.

xx

I checked e-mail before I went to work. I figured there would probably not be anything there, but it was worth a look.

There was one e-mail and it was labeled "thought of the day", time stamp was 3:10 a.m.

_Never bend your head. Always hold it high. Look the world straight in the eye.  
Helen Keller_

It was a nice idea.

I found an old note card from back when I'd been married and wrote the quote out. It would look nice on my desk and it was something I should keep in mind anyway.

There was the semi-monthly staff meeting to attend at Rangeman. I wasn't too excited about going. I wasn't up for any questions about yesterday, but I felt I owed Ranger an explanation.

I got to work about twenty minutes early and went in search of Ranger. He was on the phone when I got to his office; he looked even more tired than he had the day before.

I mouthed, "Want me to come back?"

He held up a finger, grunted and disconnected the call. He was still economizing on his words. Maybe that was how he was able to afford all the fancy cars, probably not but the idea made me smile.

I closed the door and sat down.

"Ranger, I'd like to apologize ..." I started.

"No need," he said.

"I'd like to tell you what I couldn't last night," I said.

He nodded.

"I'd like to start with thank you for making me have a full gynecological exam."

He looked at me as though I'd grown an additional head.

"I had a bad Pap smear and they're going to have to retest. Usually it means nothing, but that's when it applies to other people. When it is me and my life, it means a lot. I freaked out last night and let everybody down. I'm sorry."

"Do you want Bobby to do research or go with you for your next exam?"

"No. If it's bad news or an icky prognosis, I don't want to know until I absolutely have to deal with it. I don't want Bobby there because he actually has a job to do, I don't need a babysitter."

"Babe, do you need time off?"

"It's next Tuesday, so it's a Vinnie day anyway. No problem."

"Don't spend the time between now and then worrying," he said.

"Got that covered, planning to work pretty hard between now and then. And I'm supposed to take care of Mary Alice and Angie on Saturday. I just need to find something free or cheap to do with them that they don't do all the time."

He moved his head just enough for me to see the acknowledgement.

"Oh and I know you won't treat me any differently because of this, no matter what the results are. Right?"

He could go into over protective mode, and I wanted to be treated like I was still me.

"Time to get the meeting started," he said rising from behind his desk.

"Can I get a pass on the meeting?"

"Not feeling well?"

"No, just don't want to go," I said with a smile.

"No dice. Let's go."

The meeting was long and boring and thankfully the distraction wasn't brought up. Ranger went out of town immediately after the meeting. I don't think he said 'good-bye' to anybody.

There was an e-mail waiting for me when I got home "How'd it go?"

_Palmist,_

_Did you talk to anyone about your medical issue today?  
Want any referrals?_

_If you are afraid, remember you aren't alone. I'm just an  
e-mail away._

_CO_

_Courage is resistance to fear, mastery of fear - not absence of fear._

_Mark Twain_

I responded with:

_CO,_

_Told my boss a little. He was very understanding, but he  
usually is._

_I just feel like I'm a bother to him and his company  
sometimes. He would probably be more profitable without  
me._

_I like the quotes. They give me something to think about and  
something to smile about._

_Palmist_

_PS I'm looking after my sister's kids this weekend, please send  
any suggestions for cheap stuff to do with them._

The return e-mail said:

_P,_

_How many kids and how old?  
Boys or girls?_

_How many days?_

_CO_

_A person who never made a mistake never tried anything new._

_ Albert Einstein_

So we'd gone from a cool word for palmistry as my name to Palmist to a single letter. We must be becoming friends, the though made me smile.

I sent an e-mail with an age range of the two girls, we were still doing generalities after all. I even told him it was two girls and we'd pretty much just need to fill one day.

The next e-mail said that his suggestion would be in an envelope at the store Friday just before closing and that everything I would need for the day would be handled, if I accepted his offer.

Oh boy.

The envelope contained a pre-paid Visa card, thirty dollars worth of coupons for McDonalds, and a map with an address and directions from the store to the final location.

_P, _

_The Visa is to pay for your gas to and from the destination, or  
anything you might need._

_The kids probably like McDonald's and now you don't have to  
worry about paying to feed them. Kids like grease, right?_

_Tickets have been pre-paid and are under the name  
Chiromancer._

_Have a good time and let me know what you think._

_CO_

_In the words of Mae West:  
Between two evils, I always pick the one I never tried before.  
_

I did a search on Map-quest to find that the address was the Philadelphia Museum of Art's Rodin Museum and Main Museum. Wow. The idea of going to a museum was a far cry from the playground, picnic or bike riding. On a Saturday morning without any traffic we would be there in well under an hour, not really far all things considered.

I'd thought CO was out of my league and I was really glad that he wasn't interested in more than friendship because I didn't feel cultured on a good day, and especially not now. I had only been to that museum once and it was when I was a kid about Angie's age. It was a field trip for school, I remembered Mom was one of the chaperones and kept 'shush-ing' everyone, especially me. It was supposed to give us an appreciation for art; it made me want to hide from my mother instead.

Val couldn't believe those were the plans I had for her kids. She wanted to trade, but was already committed to doing whatever it was she already had on her plate. This sounded like a lot more fun than just another afternoon at the playground to me and I could sure use a little fun.

Angie was excited to go to a museum, she thought it was very grown up and adult. Mary Alice wanted to know if she could play somewhere after it was over. I figured we could hit a McDonalds afterwards with one of those play areas and kill two birds with one stone.

We decided to go to the Rodin Museum first, it seemed less daunting and the kids could settle in before we got to the main event.

When we got to the security desk, I was told we needed to wait for a docent. Evidently we were getting a private tour of the place.

There were a number of busts and nudes but the docent drew my attention to several pairs of hands in bronze. The docent spent a great deal of time discussing the hands; he'd been told I had a particular interest.

"Are you a sculptor?"

"No, palmist," I said.

He said nothing, I guess they kind of hang around for you to ask them if there isn't something they already know about a piece.

"Hey, can you tell me anything about my benefactor today?" I asked.

"No. I received a note from the head of scheduling that I had a small VIP group today and was to be available to you during all the museum's hours."

"Well, we're going to go to the main museum after we are done here," I said.

"That's fine. I'll escort you and introduce you to the docent for the exhibits there you want to visit."

Oh boy.

One of bronze figures that intrigued me was of a clenched hand. The docent handed me a note, which said, "This is how I feel when I have a bad day at work."

/collection/103400.html

I smiled. The frustration of the person's whole life showed in his hands. I couldn't see any lines etched into the bronze, but could feel the frustration, anger and lack of control of the model. It was almost painful to look at.

We wandered a bit more until we got to a pair of hands that was called "the secret" which looked like a pair of hands surrounding a paper cup or something like that. I got another note, "This is how I feel about secrets, they are difficult to hold onto and easy to destroy. Even if unintentionally."

/collection/103428.html

Wow.

We saw the Call to Arms, which made me wish for a guardian angel for everyone in the armed services. /collection/103378.html

The Eternal Springtime sculpture made me blush … it was beautiful, but highly erotic. The figures looked like they were the center of a world only the two of them knew about. I was feeling jealous of a statue … brilliant. I was just glad there was no note to go with this one.

/collection/54327.html

The Thinker, the statue of the guy sitting and resting his head on his hand, convinced Angie that the model was constipated. Mary Alice couldn't stop laughing at the constipated comment. Kids. OK, OK. I thought it was funny, too.

/collection/103355.html

When the tour was over, it was still early. True to his words, the docent escorted us to the main museum and left in the care of the next guide.

We chose to do the American Art Kids Tour, the girls were the right age and I was a kid at heart. This go-round, there were no notes at any of the pieces in the collection; I was a little disappointed by that, but how would he know which tour we would take?

Angie wanted to come back and do the Arms and Armor Tour, she wanted to know what kind of armor her knight in shining armor would wear one day. I didn't have the heart to tell her it would probably be a button down shirt, khakis and a pair of loafers. All little girls should be allowed to dream about their Prince Charming, even if she is thirty and not thirteen.

I decided it might actually be a nice present to take the kids once a year to the museum and help them expand their horizons beyond the Burg. The Burg is a great place, but not the kind of a place to develop or nurture dreams. This was the kind of a place where you could see people's dreams in the form of all kinds of art.

I found a McDonalds on our way out of town and fed the girls and me. Mary Alice ran herself horse, so to speak, at the play area. Angie decided she was too old, for about five minutes, and then joined her sister. I hoped it would be a good memory for them as they got older. After all, that's all you really have in life anyway, memories of experiences.

I got the kids home a little overfull of milkshakes and fries. I took myself home to write another thank you note.

_CO,_

_Thank you for today. It was a great experience for the girls  
and for me. I really wish you could have been with us._

_I've decided to do it for them every year, either for a birthday  
or for Christmas._

_When I was a kid, we had one aunt who never had kids, she  
would do things with my sister and me our mom never would._

_I think I need to be more like that for my own nieces._

_Thanks for sharing the notes about the two sculptures, I hope  
your hands aren't tense all the time. I've learned a little  
hand reflexology and maybe could help ease the kinks in your  
hands, if you want me to._

_Your comments/observations about secrets were eloquent. _

_Let me know how to return the unused portion of the Visa  
card and the McDonald's coupons._

_P_

_PS It can be hard to explain to a pre-teen why it's ok for  
people to be naked in sculpture but not on the street … oh to  
have the wisdom of Solomon!_

Before I went to bed, there was another note from Café Ole.

_P,_

_Before school starts for the girls, you should take them back  
to see the Liberty Bell, Independence Hall or the zoo. _

_There's also a great museum the kids might like called The  
Please Touch Museum, think about it. Here's their website:  
_

_There should still be enough on the Visa to cover admissions  
and I can get more McDonald's coupons if you need them._

_Glad you had a nice time._

_CO_

_PS Will be out of town most of next week and won't be able  
to e-mail._

_Hope is a waking dream.  
__Aristotle_

I thought about it and I was really going to miss this voiceless, faceless friend while he was gone.


	22. Chapter 22

Nothing But Time On My Hands

Disclaimer: Same as usual, nothing ventured and nothing paid.

Accolades to Bluzkat, CSKatie, DebB, Deb WSF, Melody and Tiina … thanks for the encouragement to move this forward.

**Nothing But Time On My Hands  
Chapter 22  
By Alfonsina**

Other than Ranger, I hadn't told anyone except CO, and then only in veiled terms, about the test. People worried enough about me, I didn't want to add fuel to the fire. Besides, talking about it would make it more real, it was real enough without any unnecessary discussion.

The night before the 're-test', the Mulligan as I'd begun to think of it, Ranger was mysteriously back. He wanted me to have dinner and stay on seven with him. I say mysterious because he was supposed to be gone over two weeks and was back in less than four days. I knew I was feeling vulnerable and didn't really want to be alone, but he seemed even more nervous than I was.

We had dinner but couldn't find anything to talk about or not talk about. We couldn't even find anything to not watch together on TV after it was over. All attempts in the apartment felt stifled somehow, like the life in it was being sucked out.

Ranger kept handing me cold glasses of water to drink. I think he needed something, anything to do with himself. So even though it was June and I was as nervous as he was, I just really wished it was cooling me. All that water did was make me want to go to the bathroom, and I didn't want to get even more strange looks from Ranger by spending time in the loo every hour and a half.

Finally I couldn't take the strangeness anymore, or any more water, so I blurted out, "If we aren't going to talk, can you take me back to that lake? It's a really peaceful place and it's a nice night."

"How about I find a pond or lake that's closer? I don't want to wear you out before tomorrow."

So much for starting a conversation, but at least we were doing something and I didn't have to think any more.

We went back to the car and he drove while I stared out the window. I don't know how long I stared or what passed me by. I do know that I must've fallen asleep because I woke up being carried by Ranger to the lake's shore.

"Hey," I said.

"Can you stand for a minute? I want to put some blankets down."

"Sure."

"Sitting or lying down? Your choice."

"Can we sit for a little bit?" So we did.

I sat between his legs and leaned into him with my head on his shoulder. I closed my eyes and breathed in his scent and tried to feel his strength. Right now I had none of my own, and I needed his support.

I finally said, "I'm just afraid. This is something I can't control or change and that scares me."

He waited me out. He could probably out-wait Job.

"I'm just freaked about this test. I never did well on tests in school," I finally whispered.

He still said nothing, but his body tensed.

"I told you the 'c' word was used, actually it was pre-'c' but still."

"They think you could have cancer, Babe?" he whispered.

"The words were pre-cancer, abnormal cells and unusual growth," I said. "I hated tests in school, but I could at least study for those. This is entirely out of my control and I don't know what to do about it."

He kissed the back of my head. "What can I do?"

"Nothing for anybody to do except wait until the next test is over and those results are determined. I'm just scared right now. Probably nothing, right?"

"You're just acting normally. Besides, it's better for them to retest and not need to than to let it go," he said.

"True, but it's hard to believe that when it's your body in question," I said with a yawn.

"We should get you back, it's late and you need to be rested for tomorrow," he said.

"My mind doesn't have to do anything, my body just has to show up," I said. "Do we have to leave?"

"No, but you'll sleep better in your own bed."

"Probably, but this is a lot more peaceful." I was disappointed because initially it sounded like he wanted us to be together all night.

"We'll come back again when the moon is full, OK?"

"Yes Dad."

"Smart ass."

xx

I was lucky that I was able to get the Pap smear done at the beginning of the day. I didn't want to dread it for an entire day, I'd likely think about it and not a skip and wind up covered in garbage.

I only had Mooner to pick up, and there was a Facts of Life Marathon on Nickelodeon. I needed some time to veg. I hadn't been sleeping much so what was the harm in hanging out with the Moon Man?

xx

About a week later I got an e-mail to see Bobby; there was a release form for me to sign. The lab got the results back early, somehow the results had been expedited. No one would tell Bobby anything since I didn't have him listed on my medical records. I knew Ranger had my medical power of attorney, but I thought Bobby would fare better if the results were bad than Ranger would. Besides, Bobby would most likely understand what the results meant.

Bobby called me into his office the next day with the results in hand. I'd had a yeast infection of some kind that gave a false reading of the initial Pap smear. I was given an ointment and told to lay off the sugars for a couple of weeks, but regular exams should be maintained just in case. I was on their radar now and would need regular 'surveillance', ironic? I surveiled others and now it was being done to me.

I knocked on Ranger's office door, I was summoned to enter. I closed the door on my way in.

"Got the results back," I said.

"And?"

"False positive, but will have to do regular Paps for a couple years to make sure everything stays healthy."

"Congratulations."

"Thanks. Wanna help me celebrate?"

"Depends. What do you have in mind? Is this an offer?"

"Have you changed your mind about relationships?"

"Not yet," he said.

"Then we'd need to do something else, won't we?"

"Babe."

"As far as I can see, we're in the middle of a Mexican stand off. I should just go."

xx

I went home alone with mixed emotions. I was relieved that there was nothing wrong with me, other than the need for Paps every six months for what would feel like forever. I was glad I'd trusted Ranger enough to tell him what had gone on and the consequent results. I felt like we were still treading water about the relationship thing.

I opened my e-mail account and saw five messages for 'new job opportunities in my area' and 'bankruptcy made easy', nothing from CO. He was still supposed to be out of town, so I hadn't expected anything, not really. But I had hoped.

I decided just to pretend that I was writing in an electronic diary of sorts and not worry about it.

I entitled the message 'good news and mixed emotions'

CO,

You're probably still out of town, but I wanted to let you know  
my good news. I just got the test results of my second test  
back; the first was a false positive. I'm going to be monitored  
regularly for a while, but that's a lot better than I'd frankly  
been expecting.

On the downside, when I told a friend of mine about the  
results, I was sort of hoping that he and I might be able to  
celebrate together. I was thinking of taking him to dinner  
some place, or even just going on a walk together. You know,  
nothing fancy, just nice and comfortable. Friendly.

When I suggested that we might do something, he was  
anticipating or hoping for sex. At least that was what he  
implied.

I just need to spell out the pluses and minuses for myself – feel  
free to skim or skip ahead - I apologize in advance for boring  
you.

Plus

He's probably my best friend

2. He's very supportive of everything I want to do and try to  
do, even if it seems beyond my abilities – helps me with tools  
or skills or whatever I seem to need

3. He believes in me when I don't or can't believe in myself

4. I'm incredibly attracted to him, and always have been

5. He knows just about everything about me and likes me  
anyway

6. I love him, as a person; it wouldn't take much for me to be  
in love with him (I probably am, but can't admit it to myself  
and I'd never admit it to him)

Minus

1. He doesn't do relationships – they either scare him or  
inconvenience him, all I know is I don't qualify to have one  
with him

2. Sex with me wouldn't mean anything to him, it would just  
some cardiovascular exercise with a physical release at the  
end. That's not true, it would mean something in the moment,  
but he'd shut me and the experience down afterwards

3. He doesn't let me in to know who he is as a person

4. He keeps more secrets than anyone I know

5. I would probably lose the friendship I did have with him if  
he rejected me, and he would reject me in the end, at least I'm  
pretty sure he would

I enjoy the flirting and the banter with him, I'd miss it if it were

gone, but I'm tired of always playing a game with him where  
he's the only one who knows the rules.

I'm not a prude, but my heart would be far more invested than  
it is right now. Right now it's pretty invested.

I'm more convinced than ever my best relationship is the one I  
have with my pet. He's not much muss or fuss, but he doesn't  
give a lot of feedback either - maybe I should look into getting  
a parrot.

Before you ask, mostly when my friend and I are together it is  
all about work or a shared meal. We don't 'do' things together.  
He's pretty much the lone wolf and doesn't seem need anybody.

I think I need to get a hobby.

Thanks for listening – and even if you trash this, I feel better to  
get it off my chest.

P

PS if you have any insight to this guy, I'd like your perspective

I hit send, took a shower, heated some leftovers and went to bed. At least I felt better getting it off my chest.

I didn't get any e-mail for four days. Ranger went into the wind during that time. At least he was around for my test results to come back from the lab.

The e-mail I finally got back from him was entitled _'Men, you can't live with them and you can't shoot them'_

P

I've got a couple of sisters. That's what they used to say  
about men all the time. Sadly I was like that not that long  
ago. I caused a lot of heartache to a lot of women for no good  
reason other than my own thoughtlessness.

When I was in high school, I was the 98 pound weakling they  
used to talk about. I was tall and skinny and had no muscles  
at all. Girls never paid any attention to me.

When I finally started to fill in, I got attention from everyone  
who ignored me before. I let my ego get the better of me and  
I was sexual with almost anybody I thought was up to _my  
standard_. I didn't think about or concern myself with the  
details of anyone's emotions.

I wanted to play and girls (later women) wanted to play with  
me. I took advantage and not in a good way. I let my body  
do most of the work attracting women, not my personality or  
my mind. I was a selfish asshole. In a lot of ways, I still am.

As a result, I never developed the skills to really talk to  
someone. My social graces are very limited, especially with  
women of quality.

If I wanted to have a very surface relationship, I could  
probably still let my body do all the work (I've kept in  
relatively good shape over the years), but I wouldn't get who I  
wanted.

I decided a while ago that I'm too old for more surface crap.

About your friend:

#1 Maybe he's like I used to be and he's a playboy when you  
aren't around, and he's not looking at consequences.

#2 Maybe he has no social skills at all.

#3 Maybe he's trying to see how long he can tempt you  
before you either 1) give in or 2) you move on. He may not  
know what to do if you choose either of those options; doesn't  
sound like if this is true for him that he's very mature.

#4 Maybe he's just an asshole and you could do better with a  
different friend and you should be pleased you never became  
lovers. (I assume you've never been lovers.)

#5 He could be very shy and have no idea how to go after  
what he wants, assuming it is you he wants.

#6 Read Kirkegaard's Either/Or if you want to know the  
psychology of a man who can't commit and only lives in his  
fantasy world.

CO

PS I'm realizing I don't talk to women all that well either. See,  
told you I needed a friend.

I've probably said too much.

Words are the money of fools.  
Thomas Hobbes

It took me a couple of days to figure out what to say to that. It was some pretty deep confessing on his part. I told myself I wasn't going to judge him; I mean he's just a friend. Actually he was less than a friend right now; he's a cyber buddy. He could stand across the street from me and I wouldn't recognize him.

CO,

You know the bookstore I work at from time to time?  
Anyway, the owner made some kind of a kit for his son to  
attract the woman of his dreams. If you want I can have  
one made for you and you can pick it up at your leisure or I  
can have it delivered somewhere. I don't know if you believe  
in that kind of stuff, but some people say it works.

The son, I'll call him Wilson, is incredibly nice. This spring  
we spent a lot of time working on his dating skills. You  
know, opening doors, pulling out chairs, blah blah blah.  
Anyway, I didn't believe that some men just couldn't talk to  
females of any age until I saw him meet the person who is  
his current girlfriend. He can talk to me and other people, if  
he's been around them for a while, but it was really funny to  
watch him not be able to make a complete sentence around  
her when they met.

Just for the record, I see myself as an equal opportunity  
friend. I don't care what people look like, how much money  
they have, or what they do for a living. I am more  
concerned with who they are on the inside. All that other

stuff is surface and changes.

You had lots of interesting insight about my friend. I try not  
to prejudge and I don't think he's an asshole (at least he's  
not to me, at least not most of the time). Now I'm not quite  
sure what I do think.

I figure he'll change or he won't. Not a lot I can do about it  
right now anyway.

P

PS if you want to use me to practice talking to women, we'll  
either need to meet or start to IM each other ... your call

PSS – the reason I worked with Wilson was because I was a  
real live female, not because of any special skills I have, just  
the God given equipment and not because he was attracted  
to me.

There was 'radio silence' for a week. I was pretty sure I offended him, but it had been fun while it lasted.

xx

My sister wanted me to spend more time with the kids over the summer, which meant more time with her. Val was convinced she had a better life than I could dream of, but she had different dreams. For some reason, I always had a hard time imagining Albert Kloughn as the dreamboat to any woman, much less my sister.

In her wisdom, Val thought cooking lessons would be good and we could do them at Mom's house.

"When did you know?" I asked cutting celery for the dinner salad. Ever since the discussion about Woody and a soulmate, she wouldn't stop dropping hints about my own lack of a love life. Step in line, Val, and join the crowd.

"I hadn't known him all that long," she said. "It'd pretty much been infatuation up until that point. Hand me the basil, will you?"

We were trying to make dinner together. I was trusted to cut veggies for the salad, but that was about it. Val was showing offer her domestic skills, again. Eggplant parmesan from scratch, salad and brownies for dinner on a week night, show off.

"Yeah and?"

"I'd had a long day and things weren't going so well," she said simply.

"I understand that," I said, it seemed like most all of my days were long. "So keep going."

"Ok, ok. Anyway that particular day if it could go wrong, it went wrong. You know, no money, needing to do laundry, bad hair day; it felt like it was the longest day of the year. He simply made it better."

"So what'd he do?"

"He came over uninvited and reviewed the wreckage that was my life. Then he took all the laundry to the laundromat. He did it all, even the delicates, folded it and sorted it into neat little bundles."

"Not what I would call romantic," I said. This description of romance had nothing to do with the chick lit I'd been reading, or even the really tacky (but oh so steamy) romance novels.

"Steph, romance isn't always about wine, roses or hearing the right words. That day I heard Albert's actions telling me that he would do what he could to make my life a little better; in my world that was hot. It still is pretty damned hot when a man shows you with his actions that he cares."

"I guess you're right Val," I said. I looked for the radishes to add to the salad. When I tried to make them into roses, I cut my thumb; they taste better in slices anyway.

"Sometimes a physical display that can't be disputed is better than words. Words can easily lie and while actions can be misinterpreted or have many meanings, once you know what they mean to the person who is 'acting' you understand the message."

Great now Val is a master at body language. Wonder what she thought people were saying who were belly dancing?

It took me a minute to digest what she just said. I did a mini review of the people in my life to see how things really stacked up. I guess my dad tells me he loves me when he takes my tires to be rotated and the oil changed in my car. My mom shows me by making sure I take home leftovers. Val's futile attempts to have me for dinner and teach me some of the finer domestic skills was her way of saying it. If I really analyzed Morelli's or Ranger's actions I'd have to draw some conclusions as to what their actions meant and I wasn't up for a dose of reality today.

I mean, there's a reason that I didn't follow Morelli to the Midwest. When I wanted love and understanding after a bad day, I was rewarded with tantrums. We never really discussed our problems, we just had sex as a way to avoid uncomfortable discussions. Don't get me wrong, there's nothing wrong with sex, but it did nothing to fix whatever was broken between us. Looking back, there was always something just a little bit broken between us.

Before the grown up Joe was Dickie. The Dick never showed me he loved me, he'd been 'burg approved' until he did the horizontal mambo with Joyce on the dining room table. There were still some who would have kept me married to him, just for the sake of propriety.

Ranger? I really didn't want to think about him, there was never a resolution about how I felt around him. In so many ways he'd tantalize me with his words or his actions only to negate them later. He'd shown me with his actions that he cared and that I was a priority, but in some ways it seemed like he was more afraid than I ever could be about things changing. Lately all pressure had been off, but since the blow up he didn't seem to want to spend any time with me.

I'd just like to know what Ranger really wanted and what he meant by his actions. I knew I was at least a friend but I knew very little about him. I knew he loved me, but he always qualified it. I knew he could act jealous for no apparent reason. In some ways I felt like he was a cat that had marked me as territory, no one else could play with me but he wouldn't either. Like I said before, the man needed to have a thermostat installed and someone needed to put a lock on the temperature control.

"Steph?" Val asked.

"Yeah?"

"Bleeding into the salad doesn't make it appetizing for the kids. Do you mind washing your hands and getting yourself a Band-Aid before you start to peel the carrots?"

"Sure."

xx

After dinner my mom took my dad aside and spoke quietly to him. He left and just waved at his little harem. If he died early it would be from estrogen poisoning. If Val ever has another kid, I really hoped it would be a boy, Dad needed more testosterone in his life.

"Girls, I've got a treat for you," Mom said talking directly to Valerie and me. "Angie and Mary Alice your treat is in the kitchen."

This was coming from left field, my mother didn't do special treats. I knew it couldn't be dessert, we'd already had brownies. The leftovers were already bundled. No one had a birthday coming up and there were no special occasions that I could think of that I'd missed. What could she have up her sleeve?

After we cleaned up dinner Mom had pulled out something and wouldn't let anyone see it. Turned out to be a big platter of cupcakes for Dad to take to the lodge. It would give the girls something to do that was out of the way, develop a burg-girl skill, and give the big girls some privacy.

She pulled out a bag from the video rental place. It was an old Johnny Depp movie, Don Juan DeMarco. It hadn't done very well at the box office, but it was right up my alley. According to the package, it was all about delusion, denial and love.

"Have either of you seen it?" she asked anxiously.

We both shook our heads.

"Good. I have a feeling it will give both of you something to think about," she said. "Mother, do you want to watch?"

"Will I get to see Johnny's package in action?" Grandma asked.

"Not exactly," Mom said.

"No point in watching a movie with a stud when he hides his package. I'll go help the girls in the kitchen."

Mom put in the movie and turned off all the lights in the living room.

Some movies just kind of transport me and everything falls away, turned out this movie did just that. I was impressed because the only movie I ever liked Johnny Depp in was the Pirates of Caribbean, the first one, and I fell in love hard somewhere in the middle of this flick. The whole movie was captivating, I even liked Brando in it and I never seem to like his movies because I can never understand what he's saying.

I think I quit breathing when I heard Don Juan talking about women. I knew damned well I'd never heard anything like it, but if I had there would be no keeping me from that man.

_**"There are only four questions of value in life, Don Octavio. What is sacred? Of what is the spirit made? What is worth living for, and what is worth dying for? The answer to each is the same: only love."**_

_**"By seeing beyond what is visible to the eye. Now there are those, of course, who do not share my perceptions, it is true. When I say that all my women are dazzling beauties, they object. The nose of this one is too large; the hips of another, they are too wide; perhaps the breasts of a third, they are too small.**_

_**"But I see these women for how they truly are . . . glorious, radiant, spectacular, and perfect . . . because I am not limited by my eyesight. Women react to me in the way they do, Don Octavio, because they sense that I search out the beauty that lies within until it overwhelms everything else. And then they cannot avoid their desire, to release that beauty and envelop me in it."**_

_**"Have you never met a woman who inspires you to love? Until your every sense is filled with her? You inhale her. You taste her. You see your unborn children in her eyes and know that your heart has at last found a home. Your life begins with her, and without her it must surely end." **_

And another part where he said:

_**Every true lover knows that the moment of greatest satisfaction comes when ecstasy is long over and he beholds before him the flower that has blossomed beneath his touch.**_

God, I wanted a man who thought like that and who talked like that. I'd follow him around like a dog. I wonder if any man alive thought like that or if it was just an illusion granted women by a gifted screen writer?

I started to daydream of a dark, handsome man who loved me that intensely, that deeply. I wanted to see myself when I looked in his eyes. I wanted to be touched like that, repeatedly.

After the movie was over I asked my mom if she'd seen it before.

"Sure, lots of times. When I would get mad at your father when you girls were in college, I'd watch it at my friend Martha's house. It gave us something to fantasize about until we finally forgave our husbands for being themselves."

Great.

"Did Dad ever look at you like that?"

"Once upon a time, he did. But we married and had the children so he didn't have to look for it in my eyes anymore. I do know that I'm home wherever he is and I think he feels the same about me. I hope so."

"Someday," I said quietly.

"Have a little faith in yourself, I do even though I worry about you. I should probably tell you that more often. Plus I think more highly of you than you do. The next time you find a worthy man, remember that you are a Mazur woman and you are deserve of the very best."

"Thanks Mom," I said. "Hey, what did you say to Dad to get him to leave?"

"That one of you was having really bad cramps and we were going to talk about possible ways to treat them."

Some days my mother is a genius.

_A/N: scene from Don Juan DeMarco taken __without__ Permission._

The muse is feeling a bit tired, but is spurned on by your reviews! Alf 


	23. Chapter 23

Nothing But Time On My Hands

Standard Disclaimers Apply: no money, no fame, and no fortune

Thanks as always to the butt kicking beta team: Bluzkat, Cow Shed Katie, Deb B, Deborah, Melody and Tiina … you catch the things I miss and the ones I want to pretend I didn't do in the first place.

**Nothing But Time On My Hands**

**Chapter 23**

**By Alfonsina**

I finally gave in and actually wrote an acceptable list for the 'man' I wanted. I chucked everyone else's lists; they were all way too specific. I took the Boy Scout list I'd poked fun at with Woody and added a couple of things to it: male, employed, drug and alcohol free, available and looking for a long-term committed relationship.

Marsha wanted me to expound on it even more, but I wouldn't. I really wanted to add one word. That word? Ranger. But if the Universe really didn't want me to have him, no amount of putting his name on a list was going to make it a reality.

I decided to man-up and take control. I was going to attempt the ritual Woody had offered to do with me before. The one he had done right before he met Morgan. Marsha helped me gather a couple of small things I'd need including: pink and white candles, sandal wood incense. Flowers, if I chose to use them, were up to me.

Marsha offered to help, but I turned her down. I was a little afraid of what would happen. I didn't want anyone else to know about my attempt in case I got an entire troop of real live Boy Scouts at my door one day. How in the world would I ever explain that?

When I thought I had my ducks all in a row, Marsha dropped a bomb. I was supposed to read the list twice a day, every day until he showed up. Terrific. The more 'regular' I was with it, the faster my result was supposed to occur.

Oh yeah, then the even bigger bomb: sometimes the Universe said 'no'. Here I was finally ready to ask for what I was probably most afraid of and the answer could be, 'Sorry, none for you. Fresh out of soulmates.'

Marsha said, "Just because you've figured out what you want, now you think you it's just going to drop in your lap from the sky? That's not the way life works."

I said, "Then, what's the point of all this?"

She replied, "If you ask, you may or may not get. If you don't ask, you definitely don't get."

I settled on mildly annoyed, but hopeful. Good thing I wasn't feeling desperate about having a man.

xx

Out of the blue I got an e-mail from CO that had nothing to do with anything we'd discussed before.

It said, "Describe an embarrassing memory."

I had a lot of things to choose from, but didn't want to volunteer. I'd scare him away again.

I responded with simply, "Age before beauty. You first." I had no idea how old he was, but it was one way to get out of it. I wanted to know what he would say or how much he might give away.

_P,_

_You're right, I asked for it. I should pony up first._

_I was a wild teenager. I defied as many people as many  
ways as I could. I had no discipline. It was part of the  
reason a judge gave me the choice of military service or jail.  
I chose the service._

_My hair had been long for years, before enlistment I colored  
it and had it cut into a Mohawk. Then I was afraid of showing  
up to boot camp with a Mohawk, didn't want razzing by the  
drill sergeant, so I had what was left of my hair shaved  
before I got on the bus the first day._

_My hair was shorter than all of the guys who got it all buzzed  
the end of the first day. I was all but bald and had a big  
nose._

_The drill instructor started to call me 'scrotum'. It took  
forever for the hair to start to grow back and for the  
nickname to die off. I still prefer my hair longer versus  
shorter._

_CO_

_Your turn._

_If I decide to be an idiot, then I'll be an idiot on my own  
accord.  
__Johannes Sebastian Bach__  
_

Damn. I kept trying to see it in my mind, and couldn't get a great picture because I had no idea what he looked like; still it made me smile.

I searched my brain and couldn't come up with anything that could top that, but I gave it a valiant effort.

_CO,_

_Nothing I have can compete with you. This story is probably  
too tame for your tastes._

_I was a senior in high school and was asked to the prom by  
'the guy' my friends and I all thought was the cutest thing.  
Anyway I found a really pretty light colored dress to wear and  
some strappy shoes that were really hard to buckle._

_I got dressed, did all the girlie stuff, and came out of my  
bedroom in time for my date when my mother saw it. She  
could see my purple and black zebra striped panties under the  
dress. My mother was horrified, my date had arrived, I had  
no other underwear that was clean._

_Long, way too long story short, my mother decided to cut my  
panties off my body because the shoes were so hard to get on  
and get off. It did two things, no visible panty line and made  
me make be sure to wear a slip._

_My father came to the prom to pick me up early, he didn't  
trust my date to not find out about my 'status'._

_P_

I hadn't thought about that in years. It paled compared to some of the accidents I'd had at work in the last couple of years, but it was something that no one else knew about.

Life went on as normal at work. There were fewer distractions to do and I was feeling the financial pinch, so I talked Tank into a few extra hours at Rangeman. Distractions paid more and took less time, but I didn't get dirty or have to worry about getting hurt behind a desk.

xx

Another question arrived, this time it was answered and there was no reference to our mutual humiliations.

_P,_

_What kinds of music do you like and why? I remember I  
asked, so I'll answer first._

_For me it is classical music for sentimental reasons._

_Growing up we didn't have a lot, so my dad would save money  
all year to take us to the symphony. It was always a kids'  
type performance and it was always a matinee, but it was  
amazing. Composers told stories with the notes they wrote on  
paper. My favorite was always Peter and the Wolf._

_We would listen to recordings of the symphony and be  
transported to better times and places, even far away lands._

_Classical music takes me to a place I can't go by myself easily.  
Usually it brings me feelings of calm and serenity._

_I never learned to play any instruments, but I did learn to  
appreciate good music._

_You?_

_CO_

_PS I recommend Pachelbel Canon, very soothing or Vivaldi's  
Four Seasons_

_PSS You probably think I'm a boring nerd now, don't you?_

_I pay no attention whatever to anybody's praise or blame. I  
simply follow my own feelings  
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart_

Oh crap. So he was an intellectual, a cultured intellectual.

_CO,_

_I wish I could tell a great story like that, but I can't. I like  
heavy metal with driving percussion._

_Why? My sister liked pop radio and she was popular. Hell, for  
a long time I thought she was perfect and I was nothing like  
her. Not blonde, not perky and not popular. Heavy metal  
was about as far from her as I could get without moving  
away from home as a teen._

_It was a safe way to rebel. Later it became the music that  
motivates me. _

_P_

_PS I recommend anything by Metallica and vintage Def  
Leppard_

"_What is this? ... It's music to get a brain seizure by."  
Ozzy Osbourne  
sorry about that – I couldn't resist _

Ranger was going to spend the last two weeks of July in Miami with Julie. Before he left, we spent an evening alone doing surveillance. Recently it seemed like I was never alone with him. It wasn't like we talked much when we were together, but it was comfortable to be just in his company.

I told him I was glad that he and Julie would be spending time together; they'd never be able to get the time back. It was easier to create good memories now than regret not making them later. He asked what brought it on and I told him the story of Woody's mom and how I'd tried to take the message to heart.

He took my hand, squeezed it and then just held it. We sat in the quiet darkness for three more hours. It reminded me of going to a drive-in movie when I was a teenager; except there was no necking going on, nothing on the screen and there was no popcorn. There was a lot of emotion flying through the cab of the truck, but I couldn't identify any of it other than to say it was intense.

On the drive back to my apartment, he broke the spell. "So how are things going with your e-mail buddy?"

"He's just a nice guy. _Things_ aren't going anywhere. It is _just_ friends." This was odd and totally unexpected. Ranger hadn't mentioned my e-mail friend in a long time.

"You've said."

"I do think it's nice to have a friend the whole Burg doesn't know about. There are no rumors and no expectations floating around about him or us."

"So there's an 'us' now?" he asked raising his eyebrow.

"No. I just mean it's been nice not having everyone mind my business. I could get used to having some privacy," I said. "I won't but I could."

"He probably wants more," Ranger said.

"Doubtful. Sounds like his life is pretty full. Not looking for any complications," I said. "If he wanted more or complications, he'd have found a way to introduce himself by now."

"Your own life is pretty full," he said to me.

"Not really. Vinnie's has slowed down and so have distractions," I said. "Even the whole palmistry thing has all but come to an end. I'm giving a cut rate to Grandma's friends, I think I've been through all of them twice."

"I can make some calls," he said. "Get you some work out of town if you want it."

"That's OK. I can make it on what I earn now, I've made due on less," I said. "Besides, Tank throws me an extra shift when someone calls in sick; it helps."

"Babe."

He walked me up and made sure the apartment was secure. It looked like he wanted to write his name in the dust in the bookcase, but his manners got the better of him.

"If you need an advance," he started.

"I'm fine. It's hot and criminals slow down when the weather warms up. Things will get back to normal in September. It'll be the back to school crime wave."

He kissed the top of my head as he left.

"Tank's in charge if you need anything," he said. "_Anything_ at all, Stephanie."

"Thanks, I'll keep it in mind. Have a good time," I said. "Give my best to Julie. I'll miss you."

xx

Right after Ranger left, a gift certificate for the One-Stop market showed up for me at the store; two hundred dollars.

I sent a thank you note, complete with the whole 'you shouldn't have' line. I didn't really know him from Adam, but he seemed to know more about me than he had a right to.

The answer I got back was a simple, "You're welcome. Anytime."

Illuminating. Why couldn't these things be handwritten notes? Why couldn't I be a handwriting analyst? Why was he being so generous? Was it getting to be time to worry?

I called Tank to talk about it. He said that the guy probably had more money than sense, spend the money, stock my pantry and be grateful. So I did.

xx

Ram said that he needed to get some clothes for a new phase in his life and asked if I would be willing to help him shop. Most of the guys had wives or girlfriends that helped keep them looking less intimidating when they were off duty. He had lots of the cargoes and t-shirts, but he said he didn't have anything to wear around 'normal' people. I guess he hadn't looked too closely at my life if he thought I knew what normal was supposed to be.

We met after work to have dinner and shop; two of my favorite sports. What is my third favorite sport? Well, I wasn't participating in that one at the moment, so best not to think about it.

We went to a little Chinese place and I ordered a stir-fried something or other and he had a steamed veggie and tofu thing with brown rice; it was like having dinner with Ranger, minus the hot looks exchanged over the meal.

"Ram, are you a vegetarian or something?"

"No. High cholesterol runs in my family and the doctor wants me to have two days a week that are all vegetarian. Problem?"

"No. Just wondering. You don't subscribe to that whole 'my body is a temple' thing, do you?" I wasn't up to lectures on trans-fats or extending my life with better eating. I just wanted to have a nice time and have some flavor in my food.

"Not usually, unless you are looking for someplace new to worship."

"Smart ass."

This was Ram. Ram had never said anything at all risqué to me before. He had to be kidding, right?

"Hey, you can't blame a guy for trying," he said with a wink. "Besides, I like you too well to hit on you."

"That's a relief."

"But if you felt the need to throw yourself at me, I'd see what I could do for you. The altar is always open."

Oh God.

Ram and I didn't spend a lot of time together. He'd recently been put in charge of the range and since I hated spending time with my weapon it limited my exposure to him. Other than a few stakeouts and a couple of takedowns, I really didn't know Ram from Adam, not that Adam worked for Rangeman. What I did know about him, I liked. Physically he was Mr. Chiseled-Face-and-oh-so-Beautifully-Sculpted-Body. He was as buff as Ranger but he didn't have a hard edge about him, he always seemed to be at ease, at least at the office. During takedowns and stakeouts he did a great impression of a Greek statue.

"Do you like your new job?" I asked.

"Love it. Shooting is the most fun I can have with my clothes on," he said with his blue eyes dancing and a slight smile. I never noticed his smile before, it was kind of reserved, that is until he started to enjoy himself then it lit up his entire face.

Shit. I got a comedian for the night, all the more reason to limit my range time.

"Really?"

"Yeah. I love the smell of Hoppes Number 9 gun cleaning fluid and gunpowder. I hate having to wear two sets of hearing protection all of the time, but I don't want to be deaf before I'm forty."

"Well how old are you? You opened the door to the age thing."

"Sorry, didn't hear you. Can you speak up?"

Jerk.

He said with a smile, "Just playing with you. I'm thirty-nine."

He was older than he looked; I mean he looked to me to be about thirty-three. But then again he was in great shape and there was no grey in his short brown locks. If this was what he looked like at thirty-nine, he'd have nothing to fear with forty… or fifty… or sixty.

"I know I don't want to hear this, but I'm gonna ask anyway. How many rounds per year do you shoot?"

Shooting was a safe conversational topic and would remove the flirting factor from dinner.

"You know some people wouldn't consider this polite dinner conversation?"

"We aren't most people. Give." I thought I did pretty well shooting two boxes of fifty shells per month.

"God, I don't know. I've never thought about it. I guess it kind of depends on what I'm doing or training for. I train and coach a lot of shooting sports so I can keep the guys up on all the new stuff that comes out." That was something to think about; firearms as a sport that changed. Go figure. He continued, "Answer me this, how many doughnuts do you think you eat per year?"

"That's not a very nice question to ask a lady," I said in mock indignation. Well maybe not so mock. What difference did it make to him? Was he now the diet police? That was almost as bad as asking how much I weighed or what my bra size was.

"Don't get huffy, work with me. I'm not going to ask you for the number again, but I want you to do some math."

"Ok."

"A typical Boston Crème doughnut from Dunkin's has 270 calories. Now, I want you to take the number of doughnuts per year you eat and multiply it by 270 and that would be close to the number of rounds I shoot in one particular caliber per year. And just so you know, I shoot a lot in about six calibers."

I dug in my purse for a calculator or a pencil, this was going to be a really high number.

"The exact number? That's an impossibility."

"Just use an educated guess. You can do the math at home. I don't want you passing out here from the shock," he said.

"Why so many rounds?"

"You have to practice to be good. I like to practice and I'm good. I'm also a shooting coach for the police in the city and county. If someone on the squad needs to brush up on technique, he or she is sent my way."

Oh boy.

"Don't worry. I already know you don't like to shoot, but if you want to get good or when you need to qualify, you know where I live. I'll be gentle, I promise."

We finished dinner and drove to the mall.

"What are you listening to?" I asked. It was pretty piano music kind of like what you heard in Nordstrom's when the piano player was working.

"Chopin. I listen to classical stuff because it never goes out of style. Besides, I've got such a poor singing voice, it spares the world from hearing me sing-a-long."

"It can't be that bad."

"That's a bet you really don't want to take, Steph," he said as we pulled into a spot in front of the Old Navy.

I wanted to see what he actually liked before I inflicted my taste on him. How shall I put this? He's really, really pretty if he's in his uniform. There's something about the black in the shirt that brings out the blue in his eyes and the dark olive of his skin. He was choosing colors that just looked awful on him, I mean hunter orange is fine if you are actually hunting, but not for every day.

"Are we going for a specific look?" I asked as I was combing through the racks looking for something that might cross his chest.

"Nope. I just want some things that I can wear when I take my son out on the weekends," he said. "Oh and for parent teacher stuff when school starts again. The teachers kind of freak with the work uniform."

"I didn't know you had kids," I said. I had no idea he'd been married. At least I assume he'd been married.

He answered the unasked question; "I was married for five years. She changed teams and decided that I didn't have the right stuff to keep her happy in a marriage."

I looked at him thinking I knew what he meant but not entirely sure.

"She's a lesbian."

Oh boy. Well, actually, it made sense. She'd have to be. No sane straight woman would divorce a guy who is that hot and nice to boot.

"How'd you deal with it?"

"I don't believe in forcing people to stay in relationships when they aren't happy."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be, we're good friends now. Besides most of us at the office are single now due to divorce. I can only think of two or three of us who haven't been married before."

"Please don't name names, I don't need to know."

"Hey, for the record, Christina and I've got a great divorce. She moved back to the state recently and we bought a duplex together. Now she, her new partner and I have no issues with custody. John, my son, loves it, he's got bedrooms both places and thinks he can choose the 'better' of the dinners being provided."

A healthy divorce, now that's a novel concept.

"Ram?"

He looked at me.

"This stuff is really too young for you. You're gonna look like you're in junior high or high school if you try to wear this stuff."

"I was afraid of that. But I've got to buy one thing in here, I promised. My son says the coolest stuff is at Old Navy and he wants me to be cool. He's thirteen and convinced I'm the biggest nerd in the world. I'm trying to impress my child."

There was one shirt that sort of fit and didn't look too young on Ram, so we bought it. We wound up buying most of the rest of his things at Lord & Taylor. The fit was good and most of the items were timeless. Mostly he looked amazing in the styles we picked out together. The teachers would never stand a chance if he wore one of his new button downs and smiled.

Personally, I had a very good time. I had the freedom to play dress up with my own personal, living Ken doll and I didn't have to pay for the clothes. The best part was when he tried on shirts that were too small; he'd attempt to button them but usually couldn't do them up much beyond his navel. I thought the sales girls were all going to swoon. Hell, I thought I was going to swoon and I'd seen that chest before on a distraction and turned out I was the one who got distracted.

It wasn't until we were checking out and the sales clerk handed him back his charge plate that I noticed the name embossed on the card, _Evan Ramsey_. No way it could be Woody's Evan from back in June, could it? Nah. No way. That's too much of a coincidence.

As we headed back to the office so I could pick up my car, Ram's phone rang.

"Speak." Pause. "Yeah, I know I'm gonna miss Lughnasad. But the Equinox is coming. Can I talk to you later? I'm with someone." Pause. "Later Mike."

Shit. I'd turned down an evening of naked activity with Ram. I mean it was a couple of months ago, but still. I really hoped Ram hadn't taken it personally. Had Woody even said anything about me? Who was Mike? I tried to remember what Marsha said about 'if only'. I hadn't so there was nothing to dwell on, just time to move forward.

As I got out of the SUV, Ram said, "Thanks for going with me tonight. I've never enjoyed playing dress-up before. Let's do it again sometime. But next time it's your turn and I'll make the choices."

Smart-ass.

"Sounds like fun, count me in. Thanks for dinner tonight, Ram. Good night."

xx

The e-mail exchanges where CO and I actually 'talked' took a few days between, but there seemed to be something in e-mail from him every day, but there was never a pattern as to what time of day things were sent. I tried to keep up by finding jokes and things of my own. The exchanges were very much my favorite part of any given day. I was getting antsy to find out more about this person and hoping to meet him in person, I had some suspicions, but it could really be a couple of people or it might not be anyone I knew.

The conversation I had with Ranger before he went out of town had been weighing on me. I liked things with my cyber friend just like they were and Ranger was trying to impress on me that this 'guy', as he liked to put it, was probably after more.

I thought about running through the short list of contenders that I thought might make the list.

There's Woody. But there also wasn't Woody. I mean he and I had been through hell and the back half-acre looking for his soulmate and we'd finally found her, or so I thought. He'd had plenty of time to make a move on me when we were trying to figure out who and what he wanted, and he never did, so he was likely out.

Ranger would never engage in conversations with someone on e-mail. He was always busy with work and never had any free time, so why would he go to this kind of trouble? If he wanted something, he made it happen. If it was for the taking, he took it; if not, he earned whatever it was. The idea of him trading e-mails, even if it was with me, just didn't seem to fit what little I actually knew of him.

Binky wasn't looking for romance, at least not with me. He said there wasn't any chemistry between us, which was a shame he was fun, witty and inventive. He did have a daughter and he didn't spend a lot of time with her.

Ram? He was the right age and had a child. He may or may not have had a romantic interest in me. I never did find out what Woody had meant a couple of months ago about 'Evan being disappointed', I wasn't even sure this was 'Evan'. Ram didn't seem the shy type and he definitely didn't have a problem talking to me.

Oh well, just a few more things to deny when I go to sleep tonight.

xx

_CO,_

_Is there anything in your life you've ever regretted?_

_Yeah, yeah. I remember the rules, I ask I have to answer  
first._

_I regret letting my family and friends influence me to marry  
someone I didn't really love when I was much younger. For a  
long time I was untrusting and held him responsible for the  
disaster that was my marriage. _

_Lately I realized that, yeah, he was the one who cheated but  
if I hadn't allowed myself to be bullied into the relationship,  
things never would've gotten to that point. So while I didn't  
put temptation in his way, peer pressure isn't a good enough  
reason to marry anybody._

_Believe it or not, in a lot of regards, I'm glad he cheated  
before we were married any longer than we were. We both  
got out of a relationship that was less than we deserved._

_Enough of my musings. You don't have to answer if you  
don't want to._

_P_

_I finally grew up enough to understand the opposite of love isn't hate, it's indifference._

I knew at the beginning we weren't going to do anything like this, but he had choices he could either 'no comment' or he could delete the message and go on.

xx

I had been doing a pretty good job of talking Ranger and Lester out of my range time. Somehow or another, I'd conveniently had something else on my plate that was urgent which prevented me from being able to hold my regular range time. Things changed for me now that I knew the Range Master and he knew me.

"No excuses, Stephanie," Ram said as he loomed over my desk.

"Sure, there are excuses and delaying tactics. Just give me time and I will come up with one."

"You can get away with that with the others but not with me. This is important."

Wonderful. It was nice while it lasted, I guess I shouldn't have counted on it lasting even this long.

"Grab your weapon so I can check on your progress," he said. "Time for your quarterly qualification."

Perfect, not only did I have to have a physical quarterly, but I was going to have to qualify every three months, too. I don't know which was more difficult, or potentially more embarrassing.

Ram didn't look like he'd take no for an answer so I pulled my purse out of the desk drawer.

"We don't have all day, Stephanie."

"Don't rush me, it'll take a minute." Jeesh.

I began the drudgery known as digging through my purse for more than just my keys, phone or my mascara. I was almost half way through when I heard the voice of my doom.

"Are you sure we haven't been married before?" Ram asked with a gleam in his eye.

"What are you talking about?"

I heard several chairs scoot back to 'not witness' the conversation we were now having.

"You really could be my wife. You are just like Christina, in more ways than I'd like to admit. She could never find her firearm quickly or easily either," he said with a smile. Before he continued, the smile disappeared, "That's a tremendous risk and that's something that's going to change as of today."

It looked like he was going to make a grab for my purse.

"Since you've already been married to a woman like me, you should know that a woman's purse is sacred. You can't rummage through it," I said hugging my bag to my chest, "or grab for it whenever you want something from it."

I slapped at his hand to protect my bag, instead I wound up hitting the desk. Looks like I'm going to have to work on my catlike reflexes, too.

He picked up the phone on my desk and dialed Tank's extension.

"The range will be free for three or four hours." Pause. "Taking her shopping." Pause. "I won't let her keep taking risks with her safety." Pause. "Changing that, too."

Shopping? I'm going to go shopping with Ram? What on earth for?

He walked me to the elevators and pushed the button for the fourth floor. Now things were getting stranger still.

"Where're we going? This doesn't look anything like the mall."

"I have access to my old apartment until the end of the month. I still have some personal items of interest here."

I was in doddle mode, I was feeling pretty uncomfortable about going to his apartment. I didn't spend time in any of the guys' apartments except for Ranger's and it had been a while since I'd been there other than to shower and change clothes.

"I'm not going to bite you," he said as I was ushered through the door. "Take a seat at the kitchen table, I'll be back in a minute."

I sat and looked around me. Even though it was a little Spartan looking, it was decorated better than my own apartment. It was done in dorm room chic, just of this decade not three decades ago. There was one sofa, a bookshelf, a CD player and a kitchen table with two chairs. I assumed there was still something in the bedroom since that's where he had headed.

He came back in with four quilted bags that looked like really old, tacky clutch purses my mom might have carried back in the day. Nah. Mom had better taste than that.

"Give me your hand," he said. "I need to know how big it is to see if I've made some good estimates for you."

I gave him my right hand, but instead of measuring it, he held it in his like we were on a date. Then he flexed his hand and had me flex mine so I could see just how much smaller mine was than his.

"I think I've got some toys that'll be a better fit for you than what you've got," he said.

"Are you your own personal armory or something?" I asked as he began to unzip bags.

"Nope. Christina could never make up her mind what she liked so I kept buying guns she 'had to have'. At least guns hold their value better than the jewelry I bought her over the years."

"You didn't get rid of them?"

"No reason, they all still work. Besides each one is used for something specific."

"Let's start with this one…." And so I tried out the collection of firearms. Two felt reasonably comfortable; both were semi-automatics.

It was curious, he didn't look bored at all, in fact he'd been very engaged for over an hour going on about the ins and outs of each one. I could tell this was his passion, too bad it wasn't mine. My active listening skills weren't engaged much of the time. I mean I paid attention to what they did and how they worked, but the history behind them and who owned which company just didn't matter to me. I was getting bored and anxious about shopping.

"So you have a preference?" he asked.

I pointed to a small back semi-automatic on the table.

"Nice choice, the Detonics Mark IV in .45 it is."

I'm sure he'd already droned on about the specifics on it, but I just didn't get it. It was a .45, it was smallish and it would pack a wallop if I fired it at someone.

"What's something like this going to cost me?" I asked. My budget was still tight because the money tree was leafless. I never did have a green thumb.

"Nothing, not yet anyway. Let's see how you do with it and if you like it. If you can handle it, will train with it and promise to carry it, I'll make you a special price."

"I can't do that to you."

"If you'd rather find a dealer to buy it from you'll be looking at close to one-thousand dollars retail for it and probably another five-hundred for all the toys that go with it."

"Ok, so maybe I can do it to you. Why are you being so generous?"

"Answer me this first. Who picked out your revolver?"

"Ranger did," I said. "Is there a problem with it?"

"No, but you do notice that of all the guns you looked at here, you only really spent time on the semi-autos. You all but snubbed the revolvers."

I hadn't realized that.

"If you like how it feels in your hand, you'll be more likely to use it," he said.

Ok. I guess. It did make some sense.

"Let me be frank. I like you too much to see you in any more danger than absolutely necessary. Ranger and Lester have been inconsistent in your training. I already know you don't like to practice, but just because you don't like something doesn't mean you shouldn't do it or that you can't be good at it. You will now do two hours of range time every day with me and no excuses, no stalling and no bullshit."

Ram was in total Dad mode. My own dad hadn't talked to me like this since I was sixteen and had issues with parallel parking.

"Just because I hate math doesn't mean I don't balance my checkbook," he said. "I'm actually a good coach. I promise to keep this interesting."

"You've already thought about this, haven't you?"

"Oh yeah. Thought about it, built a business case around it and changed both our schedules to accommodate it. And I've gotten approval to make it happen."

Oh God.

"Time to shop," he said packing up the Detonics.

It was about damn time.

We got into his SUV and headed in the opposite direction from the mall. We drove forever before I realized that not only weren't we in Trenton anymore, but we were heading to Philly.

"Ram, where are we going?"

"Shopping."

"You missed the mall a long time ago."

"Not that kind of shopping."

Evidently Ram's driving zone was similar to Ranger's, not very helpful or informative.

Finally over an hour and multiple Tastykake fantasies later, we pulled into a Philadelphia gun store.

"Why aren't we in Trenton? They've got gun stores in Trenton." I'd been hoping we were going to go to Macy's to look for purses. "At the mall they've got some great Coach purses or some killer new Dooney and Bourke's." I knew better than to hope that a Balenciaga would be in my future.

"The things you want from Macy's won't be any better than what you've got now and I'm not paying for more of the same. Plus concealed carry is legal in Pennsylvania and no one knows you here. There are some things the rest of the world doesn't need to know."

Privacy, now that's what a novel concept. What did he mean he was paying for it?

"Ram, who's paying for it?"

"Me. It's coming out of my budget for the range."

At least it wasn't his personal money.

After about an hour and trying out countless handbags, he made the final decision but I agreed with it. He bought a Galco Classic Holster Handbag in black because it would go with anything. It looked a lot like some of the Coach purses I'd admired, except it had a small zipper on the side for the compartment for the gun.

"Leave it locked when you aren't with your purse so no one else can get to your weapon. If you lose your key, let me know, I carry a spare."

"Why do you carry a spare for a woman's purse?"

"Because they make briefcases, too."

Oh.


	24. The Other side of the Coin

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the thoughts in my own little pea-brain.

Dee, baby, this is for you. I hope it continues to muddle your waters. I love you despite the teasing….Alf

**The Other Side of the Coin  
an offshoot from Nothing But Time on My Hands  
Café Ole's Perspective  
By Alfonsina**

May….

I sat in front of my desk not knowing what to do. I've seen pain inflicted before and taken it in stride. It is not as though pain and I are strangers. Not true, I am a liar and a coward. I am a companion of physical pain but have always avoided emotional pain when possible. I've treated emotions like they didn't have a place in my life. Emotions are like dessert, a lovely idea but completely unnecessary.

Unless.

Unless you are a woman and then your life seems to be governed by emotions, dumb ass.

I am very decidedly not a woman. I, therefore, have no need to cope with emotions unless it is a voluntary endeavor. I make it a point not to volunteer unless it serves my purpose.

I am lying. Again. To both of us. I have emotions and I need to both feel and explore them.

Except that now the emotional pain and fallout I am dealing with is not my own, it belongs to _her_. She has fallen prey to the emotions of a selfish bastard who has finally let his emotions out; but he never lets the right emotions out. Not true, when he does let them out it is usually inappropriate and uncontrolled. She deserves better, she always had.

Pain. Palpable pain. Pain exudes still off of every fiber of her being. The rug she had been standing on was pulled from under her and now she is face first on the floor. If you listen closely, you can hear the shards of her heart shearing off and tinkling to the floor; it is as though it was made of precious crystal. Each piece breaking off and falling one by one. I didn't realize a heart could be broken in so many ways; yet she continues to move through her life. No one seems to be able to escape the sound of her heart severing into tiny pieces and all for no reason except that she can love.

Dignified has been her attempt to deal with her humiliation; but that is always what she tries to do. She acts as though nothing has happened or as though it has no meaning. I know better, she cries and she is suffering but she won't show that to a band of mercenaries. She shows sad dignity and continues to proceed with her head held high.

Bastard. You cold, unfeeling bastard. You could make this better, ease it a little. But who would you be doing it for? Why would you step up now? She isn't expecting Prince Charming or his thundering steed; that fairy tale was put to death and died at her feet with an audience watching. Why step up now? Because you can and you should. She needs to know someone cares and has noticed her as a person. She needs to know that not all men are assholes, not all the time anyway, and maybe she'll take comfort in that.

How? How do you mend someone's broken heart when they don't even know or care you exist? Oh on a visceral level, she knows I exist but she doesn't realize I care, how much or why. She knows I'm male and right now that makes me the enemy.

Think, dumb shit. Once upon a time you thought about things beyond work and your own needs. Once upon a very long time ago, you wanted to save the damsel in distress, slay her dragons and carry her off into the sunset. You used to know how to talk to women, how to reach out, how to make them feel special. If you'd just dig your head out of your ass for a few minutes, you might be able to do something for her.

But what? If she knows it is you, things will become awkward and messy. If she knows it is you, she may try to hide.

What does she need? Things you, bright boy, can't supply. She needs unconditional love. She needs support. She needs to have a friend.

You can do that.

What?

You can be her friend.

She doesn't want me. I have no place on her radar. She would expect the worst.

"Speak." Pause. "I know you are concerned." Pause "I am aware of the situation." Pause. "No, leave her be."

I never allow place for questions about my motives, usually because I don't know what they are myself. Sometimes I do know and don't want to admit I know my reasons.

"Hello? Do you have a second? I know you aren't expecting to answer this question right now, but it is important to me. When I was a bastard during our marriage, what do you wish I would have done to apologize?" Pause. "No I am not involved with someone and I just want someone to feel more appreciated." Pause. "Of course it's a woman and no it isn't like that." Pause. "Call me and let me know. Yes, I'll owe you one or possibly many. Thanks and I'm sorry for all the things I did wrong with you so long ago."

That went better than I thought. She didn't hang up on me right away.

Several hours later she did call back and the list she provided was long and expensive. I must have been a far bigger jerk than I realized. Some of her highlights were: jewelry, dinner, vacation, flowers, candles, cars, tickets to expensive and boring events. The cars thing threw me, when had she been that mad at me? Must have been just before she contacted the attorney to file the divorce.

The only acceptable thing, in my mind, from her list was the flowers. They could be accepted or tossed and they wouldn't be a big financial hardship for me. Besides, flowers were a visible reminder that somebody gave a shit.

xx

OK, so flowers did go over well and Tank didn't laugh too hard at my lame attempt to befriend her. Why talk to Tank at all? She will go to him and talk to him; he loves her like a sister and she knows he has never had anything but her best interest at heart. Besides, no one will ask him any questions; the staff knows he keeps his own counsel on most things.

Bloody hell, now I've opened the door for her and she actually wants to go through it. She'd said thank you and didn't appear to know it was me. Thank God for small favors. She had looked a little happier since the floral delivery; too bad only nutcases and stalkers have thought enough of her in the past to do something nice.

Me? I wanted her to keep talking, maybe say something else, something more. I decided to see if a bribe would work. Chocolate had been on my ex-wife's list and I knew Steph has a sweet tooth but just for the crap you can get at the grocery store; wonder how she would like something really _good_? I let Tank know before I went out on my rounds that I'd be doing something else for him to 'investigate'. He told me he'd keep his mouth shut if I matched for him whatever I gave her, ass. If I didn't need his help so badly, I'd tell him to shove it, instead I succumbed to his blackmail.

xx

She didn't initially cave beyond the perfunctory 'thank you'. Not that I expected more, but since she'd opened the door I thought she'd be curious. I was desperate, so I flung the door open the rest of the way and basically begged her to talk to me. I even gave her the opportunity to establish some ground rules so she might continue to feel safe and maybe relax.

The rules were as much for me as they were for her; she felt safe and I wouldn't reveal myself. I do well with constraints and at times I need them. A proclamation of anything beyond 'let's get to know each other' would have about as much success as a lead balloon. She wanted and needed a safety net, I needed a cloak of invisibility; the rules provided for both.

I've been sticking quotes on the bottoms of e-mails to her. Why? I'm not a word smith, never have been. The words of others are more eloquent than my own, I've enjoyed the search; then again, I always enjoy a hunt of any kind.

I have made a monumental mistake in telling her about Richard Bach's A Bridge Across Forever. She might start to get ideas of soulmates; something I can never be to anyone. She might get other, romantic ideas, again it is something I cannot provide. At least I cannot provide those things now; maybe in the future, under other circumstances. Then again, maybe not. Probably not.

xx

June ...

Electronics are such a part of my life that it never occurred to me that she might be able to live without a computer at home. I know they are a part of her work life; I expected they would be part of her home life as well.

I over did it when I offered her a computer. My need for her is growing like a hunger; I don't want to have that hunger sated. I know the freedom I feel when a keyboard is beneath my fingers; I want her to feel that as well. I don't want her to be limited to a time or wait in a line to be expressive. If I wasn't such a chicken, I'd establish a PO Box for us to use, but then she might run into me at the post office and I'd have more to explain. Far better and easier satisfaction if this all remains electronic.

If she needed classes or tutorials, I'd see to those. Yes, I want to ingrain myself in her life, how could I not? I'll wait to see if she says anything either in e-mail or makes noises around the office to see if classes need to fall into her lap. It has been a while since the IT department did any classes; maybe it is time to put a bug in someone's ear.

xx

She has more control than I do; I want her to ask questions and she is still polite conversation. She is sticking far and away too closely to the rules. My own ego wants her to know who I am; even if the knowledge is superficial. I laid out some of who I am, I want to entice her, keep her interest. More, I want to see what she will do with that knowledge. Please do something.

The e-mail she sent about a possible health scare has me kicking my ass from here to St. Louis and back. She won't say what it is and I won't press, but my heart is not wanting to beat on its own. I know I can't say anything at work, she will want to divulge this only on her own and in her own time. Most likely she'll never tell me, so I need to be prepared for that. I will probably have to change my duty schedule so I don't encounter her until things straighten around for her. If things are in the negative and it is bad, I will find a way to break my silence. I will have to for my own well being.

A/N: The story will pick up again next week. I promise. I just couldn't help myself. I hope you enjoyed. Alf.


	25. The Other Side of the Coin 2

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the thoughts in my own little pea-brain.

**The Other Side of the Coin Part 2  
an offshoot from Nothing But Time on My Hands  
Café Ole's Perspective  
By Alfonsina**

_June … after the e-mail about her friend, his desire for sex, and his qualities good and bad_

Fuck. No other way to say it. Fuck. She wants me, _me__,_ to explain male logic, sensibilities and thinking for her. Not really what I had in mind when I started this endeavor. _She_ seems to think that I have never hurt someone either intentionally or in error. God is she mistaken! I've hurt more women more times than I can remember. I decided the easiest way to stop hurting them was to stop pursuing them.

She wants me to explain why _her friend_ wants sex with her. What? Is she sixteen?

No.

That's wrong of me. Men seem to want her and are drawn to her and she just doesn't see it. It is as though she lives in the ethers and has no concept that anyone might be desirous of her. That's probably why so many men are attracted to her incessantly. They talk about the moth to the flame, she is the flame and has no idea how badly she could potentially burn others.

If she only realized the power she holds, she could easily break hearts as a hobby. She could break mine easily enough if I ever let her get close. Most likely my heart will remain safe because things I would explain to her about myself will offend her.

xx

She is still trying to see the best in me. I was hoping she'd be done with this by now because I'm reaching the point of no return. She's accepted my flaws and forgiven them; even offered to help me in my own relationships. If she only knew. Better that she doesn't and that she never finds out.

xx

_After the musical preference e-mail …_

I've seen her sister and if her sister was the flavor of the week several years ago, there is little wonder she's had self esteem issues. If I could only convince her otherwise. Then again if I tried, she might make more of what we do/don't have right now. Best to leave her self-esteem issues alone; it is safer for her and for me.

xx

It is official. Tank is a bastard. He wants to do a nice dinner for Lula but doesn't want to pay for it. It seems that I haven't been sending enough enticements to _her_ lately and Tank wants me to step it up. What an ass. Thank you so God damned much for minding my business, Tank.

How much does it cost to feed Tank and Lula for an evening? Too damned much. At least he isn't hiring a personal chef for the night; that'd cost me several hundred dollars. As it is, I'm easily looking at over two-hundred for him to keep his mouth shut.

xx

_Regrets …_

Jesus Christ on a crutch! Now she wants to know about regrets. There are too damned many to let me sleep at night.

I wasn't ever there emotionally for my wife who was a single mother emotionally long before the divorce papers were ever signed.

I've chosen to cut everyone extraneous out of my life to reduce the amount of collateral damage. Recent events have changed some of that, but not to the degree it otherwise might.

Things I've had to do in the service of my country are too deplorable to mention.

And yet. And yet she thinks she wants to know.

If I allow myself to think and examine my own conscience, I think that for me the worst of the regrets had to do with a woman. All I've ever done is cause the women in my life pain; every god damned last one of them. It hasn't been their fault; it has always been mine, but they take all of the fallout whenever I allow myself to loosen my reins.

How do you say, "Oh I gained the trust of a woman I was infatuated with and then destroyed her world. I lured her into a situation she didn't want to be in and then threw out the rule book, satisfied my own needs and desires, and left devastated most of her life, ego, and self-worth in the process." How do you tell someone who wants to trust you that you can be as cold and as callous as they come?

Simple. You don't. You don't even admit to yourself how shallow you are. You let others assume what they will and you don't dispute it. You let it eat at you for years until it warps your perceptions of you, her, the relationship and the situation that brought the relationship to bear.

A/N: this is the end of CO's musings ... normal chapters resume next week. Alf


	26. chapter 24

**Dislcaimer:** Nothing ventured and nothing gained, at least not monetarily.

Thanks as always to those who have taken the time to beta; you have been amazingly supportive of this endeavor and even held my hand during the hiatus.

**Nothing But Time On My Hands  
Chapter 24  
By Alfonsina**

I'd heard a word I'd never heard before in the parking garage with Ram. I wasn't quite sure what it was but it was coupled with Equinox and so I figured my question could be answered by Ronny. He'd been trying to explain things to me for a long time, but I'd kind of tuned him out after he used the phrase Great Rite one too many times.

"Ronny, what is Lughnasad?"

"One of the eight sabbats, it is honored on August 1st, why?"

"Just heard the word in passing and thought you'd know what it meant. It isn't another of the big holidays, is it?"

"It isn't has big as Beltane or Samhain, but it is important. The whole wheel of life is important to all of mankind whether or not we acknowledge it."

Oh.

"Hey, can you watch the store for me for an hour or so? I need to run a quick errand and I hadn't planned to be alone most of today."

"Sure Ronny, take your time."

"Oh, before I forget, I've got someone who's coming in to pick up a special order. Can you wait until the client comes before you head back out?"

"Sure thing."

I picked up a dust rag and started going over the shelves lightly. Since I was no longer apprentice to Woody, Ronny had slacked off a little in the housekeeping department of the store.

I had gotten almost all the way to the back of the store when I heard the bell tinkle announcing someone's arrival.

"I'll be right with …" I said as I turned around. "Ram? What are you doing here?"

"Shopping."

Perfect, he could be chatty at work talking about firearms or ammo but if he was out of his comfort zone, he was not a fountain of information.

"Need some help?"

"Nah. I always get the same stuff. Actually, Ronny put it together for me this time."

I was looking for something to say. Now I was more convinced than ever that this was Woody's Evan. Shit.

"You pick up another job?" he asked. It looked like he was reaching for something to say, too.

"No. I stopped into ask Ronny a question and he asked if I'd cover the store for him when he went on an errand. He should be back fairly soon if you want to wait for him," I said. "I do palms here sometimes." I was still trying to keep the silence and strangeness at bay; I was failing drastically.

He probably already knew that, but he wasn't assigned to 'Stephanie duty' very often. More and more 'Stephanie Duty' came to be the litmus test of the new guys Ranger hired; if they could keep up with me and not get injured, they'd probably survive the probationary period.

"Odd. I just called him to let him know I was dropping in to pick up my order," Ram said. The puzzled look on his face spoke volumes.

"I can read your palm for you, if you want," I offered. I was no longer letting people pressure me into freebies, but I was curious to see what Ram's palm said about him.

"No, but maybe another time. Can you ring this up for me? I've got to get some of the new guys through a our defensive shooting course."

Ronny got back about an hour later looking immensely proud of himself.

"That client come in to pick up his package?" he asked.

"Yep, and if you mean Ram, he just left. I need to get a move on. See ya."

xx

Life was pretty much normal, except when I'd go to bed at night. I had no problem getting to sleep but in the middle of the night I'd start to feel someone shaking my shoulder. Was there a pattern to the shaking? No, it wasn't every night and it was always at a different time.

The first time the shaking happened was during the health scare. It unnerved me completely. Then it started to happen sporadically, usually if I was able to get all the way awake I'd check the computer and an e-mail had been delivered. One night I was tired and kept feeling the shaking and I finally said aloud to no one, "I was sleeping. I'm too tired to play, just go to bed." I punched the pillow and rolled over; right before I fell asleep I felt something warm around my waist.

Now almost every night it felt like someone crawled into bed with me to snuggle. The feeling that I wasn't alone came at different points in the night and not always for very long. Some nights it felt like there was an arm around my waist. Other times I thought I could feel lips against my neck. Once in a while, it felt as though the pillow under my hands had morphed into the shape and texture of a man's chest. Always there was a faintly familiar but unidentifiable smell that accompanied these visits, as I decided to think of them.

I didn't really know what was going on, but I felt like this was something private and I didn't want to tell anyone about it. At various points I thought I'd see a face or some hair, but it was never the same. Sometimes the skin was as light as Binky's or as dark as Bobby's. Sometimes I thought I felt hair under my fingers, but it always varied in length; it was as long as Ranger's or incredibly short like Ram.

I decided I had an overactive imagination and it was time to get serious about the possibility of a relationship with someone who was more articulate than my pillow.

xx

Two weeks went by before the question about regret was answered. But in the meanwhile, we talked about everything else, baseball, the coming hockey season, and the fact that work was picking up for both of us.

_P,_

_Yes, I've done a lot of things for work that needed to be done  
that I've regretted, but I always had a business case for why  
I did them._

_Personally, I regret the fact that I hurt the one woman I ever  
truly loved by pressuring her into something she didn't  
necessarily want or need. I was relentless in my pursuit of  
what I wanted and was immediately a coward after the fact._

_I still crave her even though she will never again really be  
available to me. It is as though I saw the most gorgeous  
flower in a garden and couldn't be content just to gaze at it.  
I had to pluck it so I could possess it and it has been dying a  
little at a time since then. _

_We are still friends, but I think she is always waiting for me  
to hurt her again somehow. It kills me inside to know that I  
have hurt her, even for a second._

_She never knew I loved her, that I still love her. I will  
probably always love her. She has moved on and now I find  
that I cannot. My actions will remain a bittersweet memory;  
that is the most difficult thing of all. _

_I don't know if she's ever forgiven me, I'd give the world for  
that. I'm afraid of asking for fear of losing what I still have.  
Our relationship is tenuous at best and I doubt it will ever be  
fully restored. _

_CO_

_Asshole and coward, right?_

_He was just a coward and that was the worst luck any many  
could have.  
Ernest Hemmingway_

I was thinking something far less deep. I regretted not writing the great American novel. Not voting in the last election. Lying to make someone feel better about his or her own life. Not this, not this at all. Without any details, he'd poured out quite a bit of heartache and pain.

_CO,_

_I've been hurt before by friends and non-friends, usually I  
shoulder some of the blame. In the end, I almost always  
get over whatever it was at the time that was so painful._

_As a rule, women are pretty forgiving and resilient. If, as a  
gender, we weren't, the species would've died out a long  
time ago. _

_A friend of mine hurt me a while back and it was the worst  
feeling I'd ever had in the world. Later I looked back on it  
and realized he was just being himself, a bit of a jerk, but he  
was himself. It was a while before I quit fantasizing about  
tying his penis into a knot; while I never would have done it  
to him, the fantasy helped ease the sting. Periodically I still  
smart from the incident, but on balance his friendship is  
worth more to me than our lack of communication skills._

_For me, well, I'm learning you can't live in fear. If I did, I'd  
never be able to do my job or even leave my house some  
days. _

_Live in the now and expand on what you do have. Sounds  
good in theory anyway._

_Trust that things will work out for the best, even if it doesn't  
seem like it at the time._

_P_

_Since you always cancel our meetings, why don't you  
photocopy or scan your palm and e-mail me the image? We  
don't have to do all of it, just the karate chop part maybe._

_Think about it … it's not as good as being there, but curiosity  
is getting the better of me._

I'd put it out there; I wanted to know more about him. He was multi-faceted in ways I couldn't begin to fathom and yet it seemed that he never told anyone anything. It also seemed that he was afraid of anyone knowing his personal truths, no matter what they happened to be. Maybe he didn't even tell himself his own truths.

_P,_

_If I send you a scan of part of my hand, we will have  
changed the rules and things will become more personal for  
us both. _

_Do you really want that?_

_CO_

_Be like a duck. Calm on the surface, but always paddling like  
the dickens underneath.  
Michael Caine_

I thought about it long and hard. I did want that. Marsha and Ronny kept telling me that the upcoming equinox would be a fabulous time to set my intention to change my life. Great, I wanted it and I was afraid of it. Then again without great risk there is oft times no great reward.

_CO,_

_Yes, I want that. How will the rules change?_

_P_

I closed my eyes and pressed send.

xx

I saw Ram the next day on the range. It seemed that I now saw more of him than anyone else at the company. Even on what had been Vinnie days I still had to log time with Ram. Some days it was all about field stripping the guns or clearing jams. Other days it was about how light could impact my perception of where the target really was. Then there was drilling, constant drilling; two shots to the chest and one to the head. I couldn't believe he would do upwards of 40,000 rounds per year on some of this stuff; then again he could shoot my name into a target at 50 feet.

I had been fretting over the most recent e-mail development and I couldn't hit my targets worth a damn. Instead of forcing the issue, he handed me a broom so I could sweep up the spent brass on the range.

"Steph, you've got something on your mind and until you're over whatever it is, we're both wasting our time today. Will you tell me about it?"

"It's complicated," I started. I started a lot of conversations with those words.

"Can you tell me what exactly is complicated?" he asked while he was fiddling with the scope on an AR15.

"Life. Happiness. Love."

"Well, at least you've narrowed it down and you haven't included world peace," he said with a smile.

I swept while he fiddled and finally he spoke, "Life really is only as complicated as you make it. You make your own happiness by the choices you make."

"I've got it on good authority, from my Philosophy 101 course, that life, happiness and love are things people have fought over and debated for years."

"True enough. But they are looking at esoteric things, the intangibles, the generalities that might, maybe, be true for the world. We are talking about you. When we narrow it down, things get a lot more specific. Do you have dreams about what you want?"

"Not like when I was a kid and wanted to be a super hero. I try to dream but I feel like it isn't enough," I sighed.

"You can't compromise your dreams for anybody. If you are dreaming of life, love or happiness or all of it, you need to hold fast to it. Listen to your heart."

A man who wears two sets of hearing protection is telling me to listen to my heart? Is he able to hear his own over all muffling?

"Look, you can't make anybody happy except yourself," he said. I started to interrupt when he put his hand on my shoulder and continued, "I know you want to think you can, but you really can't.

"Take babies for example. You can make them warm, fed and dry, but it's their choice to laugh or smile. The same is true with adults; you can give them the stimulus, but ultimately happiness and joy are up to them. You have to decide what you want, what you need and make your decisions based on that."

"But what about how…" I was attempting to get profound and it wasn't working.

"No buts. No one else really matters. Even if you don't completely achieve your dreams or attain what you think you want, you need to decide whether or not it's worth the effort."

"I guess you're right. Where'd you figure some of this out anyway?"

"A long time ago, I had a baby who was up and fussy a lot at night. There were times it wouldn't have mattered if I stood on my head or told jokes, some nights he just wanted to cry. Most of the time he was good natured, but there were some very long nights when he was young."

Glad I hadn't had kids.

"Do you believe in your own dreams?" I asked.

"Usually. Some of them aren't attainable, but most of them are," he said with a smile. "If you want an impartial sounding board, let me know. Get out of here, you've got better ways to spend your day. I'll finish the sweeping."

"What do you do with all the brass anyway?"

"Reload them and shoot them again, it helps me keep the costs down."

I didn't know you could do that with old brass.

xx

I had been feeling brave and self confident, sort of, when I pressed send on the last e-mail. Then I decided to be true to my own nature, I didn't even look at the computer for a week. I put my head straight in the sand and tried to disappear from my cyber friend.

I was hiding in plain sight, but hiding nonetheless. I put in more time on my skips. I spent additional hours at Rangeman. I worked steadily with Ram not only on my shooting skills but my hand-to-hand techniques. I even volunteered to go to my mother's to help make dinner one night.

Ranger called me on it.

"Babe, what's with all the recent activity?"

"Nothing," I said. Yeah right. If I checked e-mail I'd have to deal with the results and the whole idea of that was scaring the hell out of me.

"Anything you need to talk about?"

Like I was going to tell him I was in the process of changing the rules with CO. Even I didn't know what it meant, who he was or why I was feeling so drawn to find out more about him.

Reflecting back on it, I realized I really didn't tell anyone about the relationship I had online with this man, I mean other than way surface stuff with Ranger and a little with Tank. If it was just friends, why wouldn't I say anything? Why was I trying so hard to keep it a secret?

I gathered my courage and knew if I was in over my head I could just press the delete button. It really couldn't be all that bad, could it? When I finally booted up the machine, there were nine messages from him in less than a week. God did I ever feel guilty. I was almost afraid to see what they had to say.

I went with the oldest first and I skipped through some of the others.

_P,_

_Still thinking about the rules. You should have some input  
to this change, too._

_Let me have your thoughts._

_CO_

_Silence means consent!  
Robert's Rules of Order _

Great by saying nothing for all this time I may have agreed to something completely egregious.

_P,_

_Haven't heard from you. Are you OK?_

_CO_

_As a child, I was more afraid of tetanus shots than, for  
example, Dracula.  
Dave Barry_

Does this mean he's scarier than Dracula or a tetanus shot? Is silence equating to the big freak out to him? I mean, I'm completely freaking out, but can he tell all of that by a little silence?

Then the next one:

_P_

_Checking in … I'm really not that scary once you get to know  
me, promise._

_OK, maybe a little around the edges, but I'm not really that  
bad._

_CO_

_It takes a lot of courage to show your dreams to someone  
else.  
Erma Bombeck_

What have I started?

There were more that were along the lines of "are you OK?"

_P,_

_We don't have to do this if you don't want to. We can go  
back to the way it was._

_Talk to me, about anything. Please?_

_CO_

_If a word in the dictionary were misspelled, how would we  
know?  
Steven Wright_

I shifted in my seat in front of the laptop, put a Tastykake in my mouth and engaged full denial mode.

_CO,_

_Things have been busy at work this week. Sorry about that. _

_I'm sure you've had more than a few ideas. Why don't you  
start? I know usually whoever has the bright idea has to  
lead, but I have no ideas._

_P_

At least now he won't think I'm a complete and total flake.

_P,_

_Not a problem. I was just worried about you. _

_We could leave it 'tit for tat' and change nothing._

_I really would like to know you better, if you're open. Your  
decision, your choice. Think of it as having the control or  
power; I'll abide your decisions._

_CO_

_Always do what's next.  
George Carlin_

Great, the proverbial ball was back in my court. Again.

_CO,_

_Tell you what, you send the karate chop part of your hand,  
I'll read it and tell you what it says. If you want to know  
what mine says about me, I'll do the same._

_You first._

_P_

_This really would be easier in person._

A/N: thanks as always for reading and reviewing! Alf


	27. Chapter 25

Standard disclaimers all apply.

Tiina, Melody, Deb WSF, Deb B, CSKatie and Bluz – thank you. Enough for my detour into brevity on with the show.

**Nothing But Time On My Hands  
Chapter 25  
by Alfonsina**

He didn't send what I asked for; instead he sent a single flower to the store at closing.

The first day was an orchid, one of the few flowers I recognized. The note read, "You are like the orchid; an amazing combination of strength and power hidden behind a fragile looking façade."

The next day there was lavender. On the note was written, "Lavender is constancy. I'd like to provide more constancy in your life, support you in all things."

The third day was a variegated tulip. "Your smile melts my heart. Before you, people saw me as cold and unfeeling. I even saw myself that way; you free something deep inside of me."

The fourth day, I called Tank when I got up. Ranger had been cranky for two days and I didn't want to make matters worse than they were. Probably he had a problem with a client or some bonds that were due.

"Tank, do you remember that potential stalker from several months ago?"

"Sure, Steph. Don't tell me you think you've got a new one."

"Nope. Same guy. We've been doing the e-mail thing, his deliveries are increasing and they are kind of freaking me out. Things are getting hinky."

It'd been a while since I'd gotten anything and then it had been small denomination gift certificates. This was feeling personal, too personal. It was upsetting.

"Do you want me to check it out?"

"Yes, please."

"Have you considered the fact he may not be stalking you, he may be trying to woo you?"

Oh God. Ranger was right, again. This guy seemed to want more, a lot more and, I wasn't ready for this.

"You still there, Steph?" Tank asked.

"Yeah. Sorry about that. What do you want me to do with all the flowers and stuff?"

"I'll meet you at your apartment then I'll drive you in to work today. Sounds like you're a little shaky."

"A little. See you in a bit Tank."

Tank came to the apartment, looked at the flowers and collected the notes.

"At least he's got nice taste," he said.

"Yeah, but it _is_ getting a little creepy."

"Have you told him that yet?"

"Not yet, I was in the middle of freaking out first. I thought I'd get that part out of the way. Then I figured I could decide what to do."

He made a phone call and said, "I need three on her desk and I want a carafe of it made when I get there. See you in twenty."

We got to the office in fairly short order, my inbox was of course over flowing and I was ready to deny anything had happened the last couple of days. I scarcely saw what was lined up at my workstation. Three jelly filled doughnuts and a carafe of hot chocolate. Tank was my personal hero.

I looked at him and he just shrugged and said, "Steph, for you, sugar takes the edge off. If you smoked I'd have had several cigars, pipe tobacco or a carton of cigarettes for you."

"You know me well. Thanks," I said as I kissed him on the cheek.

"If you need anything," he started to say as he headed to Ranger's office.

Right before I heard the office door slam, I heard the words, "Scaring the hell out of her." There was some other stuff on either side of it, but the words 'scaring' and 'her' always seemed to leap out at me in conversation.

Previously when Tank talked to Ranger about her, I mean me, Tank broke the window outside Ranger's office. At least this time there was no glass breakage.

Ranger stormed to my desk and said, "Walk with me."

If memory served correctly, the last time I'd heard those words uttered we'd had the Stephanie Plum humiliation show; that was an experience I never wanted to repeat.

I thought we were going to go to his office, but he escorted me, by way of my elbow, to the elevator. Either I was being fired and walked out the building or we were going to talk on seven. I didn't have enough money in the bank to lose the stable income Rangeman provided, so despite hating the talks we sometimes had it was the better of the two options.

"Why did you call Tank and not me?" he asked as soon as we entered the apartment.

"Don't you trust me at all anymore?" He was gritting out the words and looked like he was this side of losing his control.

"I called Tank because you get all over protective sometimes and you try to take my choices away. It isn't about trust. Tank isn't as close and isn't as bossy," I said immediately regretting how much of the truth I'd just told.

"How long has this been going on, Stephanie?"

"Which? You mean the flowers?"

He glared and moved his head a fraction of an inch.

"Three days running. If I don't send him an e-mail or something, there'll probably be a delivery today."

"You don't like flowers?"

"Duh. All women, ok mostly all women, like flowers. But this has been a little too much too fast. The meanings of the flowers and the sentiments are bothering me too. I mean, I figured we were just friends and might get to know each other a little better, but this is overwhelming."

"I told you weeks ago he probably wanted more," he said quietly. At least he was starting to calm down, some.

"I know. I'm finally at a place where I'm ready for something more with someone, but I've got no idea what I've gotten myself into." I just realized that I'd made a very awkward confession to Ranger and not necessarily about him.

"You never do," he said with a small smile. "Tank is reinvestigating what he knows about this guy. You might want to send him a note about the flowers so he knows you at least liked them and how they've affected you."

"So we're good? You aren't mad at me?" I asked searching his eyes for something, anything.

"We're good," he said. "I can't stay mad at you for long."

Good thing because I'd given him plenty to be mad at over the years.

He took my hand and squeezed it as I got ready to leave. I noticed he did that almost every time he left, I made sure to squeeze back.

I went home to take an early lunch in order to send an e-mail in privacy.

_CO,_

_I've loved the flowers. They are gorgeous, but I'm feeling  
like it's way too much. The sentiments have me off  
balanced, because you know me and I don't know you._

_You have the advantage and you said I could have the  
power. I want the power. _

_Please slow down, you are scaring me and I don't like that.  
I've got enough practice at it in every day life._

_P_

I received a bouquet of purple hyacinth with a note that read, _"I'm sorry if I scared you. Just thinking about you is the bright spot in my day. Let me make it up to you, just tell me how."_

My responding e-mail said, _"Get personal about yourself, if you can. You don't have to be so specific as to identify yourself, but tell me things you haven't thought about in a long time or things that have influenced you."_

Immediately the e-mails resumed and the flowers stopped. I got multiple stories each day about people he knew, his past, parties, pets, quitting college. I was getting to know more than just his surface.

I tried to match story for story but wasn't always able to keep up. Plus I was still trying to stay detached. I was failing because I found that I was falling for this faceless voiceless person.

I did write to him about overhearing a conversation in the break room one day when I'd come back early from an assignment. It was the day after I did the distraction in the skirt that had been a little too tight and I'd had to bend over and flash everyone in the bar.

"_I heard him say he wanted to set up a little shrine with some of my old work outfits so he could light candles and pray that he got lucky that night…. I even heard him say that he'd even pay me for the underwear and bra that matched the outfit if he could keep them. Now I know he was just kidding, but it was pretty embarrassing. I was really glad I hadn't walked into the room during that conversation; I don't know who would've been more embarrassed him or me..."_

I noticed that Lester had a black eye the next day from a surprise training session. Lester wouldn't say who he'd been training with; the cameras had been scrambled five minutes before Lester got to the gym until the time he limped out disappeared.

xx

In early September, I got an e-mail that CO was finally ready to meet me and to prove it he sent me the photocopy of his whole palm and the side of his right hand. He wanted to wait to set a date until he heard back about his palm. That was fair, more than fair.

xx

I studied the photocopy and won't say I came up empty, but it was a lot harder than having a person next to me. I showed it to Woody and we talked about it. It was anonymous and I never said I wouldn't ask for help reading it.

I knew I could have come up with a lot more if I'd had the chance to see it up close and feel it, but I think I did pretty well. It kept feeling familiar somehow, but I couldn't put my finger on it. I just couldn't shake the feeling. Elements of the palm were what I had expected from almost anyone at Rangeman; they were all so similar. If it had been a scan and not a photocopy, I think I'd have had a better chance to identify him, by skin tone. Black and white images don't really tell you much about skin tone.

Reviewing the palm with Woody, this is what we came up with:

1. incredible passion that over rides logic on the rare occasion

2. mostly even tempered, but when the anger reaches the boiling point, look out

3. day to day decisions all made logically with very little second guessing

4. presents a calm demeanor to the outside world, but actually carries his emotions deeply

5. fiercely loyal to friends and family

6. stubborn to a fault, would listen to a point but once his mind was made up that was it

7. righter of (perceived) wrongs

8. strong sense that justice delayed was justice denied

9. has good intuition, but preferred decisions based on fact

10. doesn't want anyone to know the hardest decisions he made were made with his heart and not his head – he presented a logic only front to the outside world

11. very smart and things come easily

12. logical mind

13. someone has to have proof they were worthy of his trust, he doesn't just grant it

14. rocky love life for many years, kind of a Don Juan – love 'em and leave 'em.

15. there was a major rift in love line that could have meant anything, it could have been a bad divorce, it could have been unrequited love, it could've been falling in love truly for the first time … no way to tell without actually feeling up close and personal

The side of the hand was kind of like a totem pole, read from bottom to top. From the side of his hand there were major influences in his life at around age eight, fifteen, twenty and again at thirty.

I typed it all up and sent it to him and asked how I did. I sent an e-mail offering to do the same with my hand so he could hear what my hands said about me. Then I waited. I heard nothing for one week. I didn't even get any quotes or jokes from him.

I finally got an e-mail that said, _"Have to be out of pocket for a while. Hopefully I'll be in touch soon."_ That was it. It was more information than I ever got from Ranger but it still wasn't much.

Ranger went into the wind over the weekend and had taken Manny, Caesar, Cal, Hal, Erik, Ram and Binky with him. I hoped they were safe. There wasn't even so much as a goodbye, just an e-mail Monday from Tank saying they'd be back when they got back.

Typical.

xx

Mark Ruzzi was wanted for money laundering, but at least he wasn't violent. He owned his own car dealership and he was always there, seemed he even had a little apartment over the place so someone would always be available for a prospective client. It was convenient for him, but he rarely left the building which made my life difficult.

Because Binky got back before the others, he got to partner with me for this distraction. We were to pose as a couple. We got to the dealership just as they were trying to close the doors for the night.

"Sweetie, we should just go," he said to me as we wandered the showroom hand in hand for about the third time. "It's late and nobody is going to want to sell us anything tonight."

"But I wanted to get a new car _today,"_ I whined. "You promised. You always promise."

"Sorry, but they just don't have the vehicle I have in mind for you. I think we can get a better deal in Newark," he said in a stage whisper.

That did the trick. Whoever over heard our conversation called for the manager before we could get away. "Mr. Ruzzi to the sales floor. Customer waiting. Mr. Ruzzi to the sales floor."

Out from nowhere emerged a man who looked like he was wearing a fur suit based on the amount of hair sneaking out of his collar and past his sleeves. Over the fur suit was a tweed sports coat and a pair of beige pants.

"May I help you folks?" he asked sticking his paw out towards Binky. "Mark Ruzzi."

"Bill Smith and my wife, Elizabeth," Binky said shaking the man's hand and appraising him.

Wife? We hadn't discussed the word wife. I usually played the part of the girlfriend; less to remember as the girlfriend.

"What can I help you find tonight?"

"Oh, it's been a long day. I'm sure you really want to close up for the night," Binky said trying to give a knowing look. Knowing exactly what I wasn't sure.

"Do you have anything particular you're looking for?" Mark asked. This guy didn't want to lose a potential sale.

"I saw something on the lot, but she's not interested in it. It's probably not right for her anyway."

"Maybe if I explain the vehicle and give you some details it might be what you really need."

"We aren't going to deal tonight," Binky said.

"But you promised," I whined dragging out the words for effect.

Binky kissed me on the forehead and very gently on the lips. Then he said, "Pregnancy hormones. We're expecting our third. We just found out today." Then he stood behind me and looped his arms around my middle and started to mess with my neck.

Third? Pregnancy? Where was he getting this stuff? Why was he getting all handsy all of a sudden? Usually when I played the girlfriend it was just light handholding and there was only kissing if I was teamed with Ranger.

Ruzzi looked like he'd just met a man who didn't know how to say no to his wife. I could see him already counting his money on a sale that was never going to happen.

"Why don't we let the man lock up tonight?" Binky purred into my ear.

"Can we look on the lot with him?" I asked trying to look and sound like the loving wife. "Please, baby?"

Mark got his keys and started locking doors and shutting off lights. "I've got all night if you want to look at cars on the lot."

We left the glass enclosed building and waited with Mark while he locked it.

"New or gently used?" he asked Binky.

You'd think I was the invisible woman. Mark was playing into stereotypes and Binky wasn't helping things.

"She doesn't keep cars very long," Binky said nuzzling my neck a little more. If he kept this up I wasn't going to care if he didn't get a tingle, I was going to be all over him like white on rice. The energy moving through my body was so strong that I could probably light up an entire city block.

"Do you have a trade in?"

"Nope, we never do."

Smart-ass.

"That's not true. I sometimes have a little something to trade in. I just don't have good luck with cars," I said defending myself trying to wiggle out of his grasp.

"Let's look at the new-used cars then," Mark said walking us a little further away from the building.

"We want something that's got a good safety record and a solid warranty."

Binky was laying it on thick but the skip was swallowing it: hook, line and sinker.

When we were almost to a clear aisle, Tank and Woody took Ruzzi down.

"Can you guys deal with the paperwork and body receipt?" Binky asked.

"Sure," Tank said. "Good work, guys."

Binky and I went to a little diner to get some coffee and dessert. We sat at a booth and just talked about little stuff: his trip, his daughter, and the regular day-to-day things. He felt comfortable and right. Binky made for a great friend. Too bad he didn't feel any chemistry, because when we were at the dealership I started to become mush inside in addition to feeling that damned tingle all over again. I really needed to invest in a better quality shower massager.

xx

At the end of September, everyone was back except for Ranger. No one would say where they'd been, what they'd done or any details. It was probably better that way. Tank gave them each time off before they reported back for duty.

xx

I did get one e-mail from CO while the guys had been in the wind. It said, _"I haven't forgotten about you, I promise. I just haven't been free to check in. Should be back to a routine in another week or so. I want to talk to you again, really."_

As I read it, it sounded almost needy which was definitely a different timbre than I normally picked up from our exchanges. I sent one back that I thought was incredibly eloquent, _"I missed talking to you, too."_

He wasn't mad and he hadn't forgotten me. I felt all warm and fuzzy inside, like something had been missing was now restored. It bothered me why this relationship was so important.

A/N: thanks for reading and reviewing ... Alf


	28. Chapter 26

Disclaimers: no money, fortune or fame maybe someday, but not today.

Thanks as always to Bluz, CS Katie, DebB, Deb WSF, Melody and Tiina – you have been amazing. It would be no where near so good without you.

**Nothing But Time On My Hands  
Chapter 26  
By Alfonsina**

Jerry Johns was wanted for human trafficking. He specialized in the downtrodden from Asia and put them to work in factories across the Northeast. He believed that money bought anything he wanted, including a reputation. He had enough money to buy any reputation he wanted. The one he wanted? Upstanding businessman, oh and swinger on the side.

Well, maybe not so much a swinger as someone who was into sexual experiences with multiple partners at one time. Sex is great one on one, but multiples were just something I'd never given any serious consideration. From the intel that had been provided, Jerry Johns wasn't into two women and one man, but two men with one woman. As the only designated Rangeman the appropriate parts to be the woman, it was now time to get a volunteer to fill out our little triangle.

Why did Ranger have to be in the wind? I could maybe pull off the idea of a threesome if he were involved; who am I kidding? Anything involving naked Ranger got me interested.

I decided not to be part of the meeting when they decided who my partner in this little distraction was going to be. I opted to take a long lunch at the Macy's shoe department to calm my nerves and provide me strength. If lunch provided me with a strappy pair of pumps, that would be so much better.

I'd seen the file and studied it. Johns was scum but nice looking scum; if you are into long blonde hair, green eyes and a wicked smile. He was on the very slender side; he didn't look like he would put up much of a fight if he got tackled.

It seemed that none of the guys wanted to be part of even a perceived third unless two women were involved, so they drew straws. Hector was willing to volunteer and God knew he was cute enough, but my Spanish wasn't near to adequate. How convincing can you be when all you can say is, "Yo quiero Taco Bell?"

Ram was the lucky winner and now my designated partner.

Ram and I spent a lot of time together on the range, but we had no real physical interaction unless he was fixing my body position or handing me a newly loaded magazine. He basically treated me like one of the guys, and it was kind of refreshing because I didn't feel like I had to have my guard up while I was with him. There was periodic banter, but that was about it.

The distraction was going to be a horse of another color; we were going to have to look like we were actively together and be extremely physically comfortable with each other. At the moment we were about as comfortable touching each other as strangers at a bus stop. I really hoped Ram was a good actor.

It took two days of looking before I found just the right dress and then I had to take Lester with me. I kept finding things that fell short of the mark; they were either too slutty or too classy. I wanted a man's opinion that I could trust. Lester's reputation as a ladies' man preceded him and I knew that if I could get him to do a double or triple take, then the outfit might just work.

I drew the line when he wanted to help me buy undies and matching bra; he even offered to pay for them if I modeled privately for him. I said no and he kept trying to sweeten the pot by offering to buy me multiple sets. He even offered to help me sort my own lingerie out so I would only keep the things that would really turn a guy on. It was easy to tell Lester isn't Italian; for an Italian man breathing and willing was all they needed to be turned on.

The outfit was a royal blue dress that was too low in all the right places and too tight in the rest. It didn't hurt that the blue on the dress made my own eyes look a little bluer. The strappy shoes I'd found during lunch turned out to be perfect, four inches isn't ever too high when a girl is trying to look her best. I knew it had been a good choice when Lester had a hard time walking after I'd first tried on the whole ensemble.

Lester and I went back to the office after our mini-stand off over lingerie. Actually, he dropped me off in the garage. I needed to go to the plumbing supply store. I was wondering if Consumer Reports Magazine would hire me in their quality control department for shower massagers. It would pay for my habit and I'd know which ones would survive more than a couple of long and lonely months.

Ram and Woody picked me up around 11:00. I guess this guy usually waited until people were beginning to feel no pain before he started to look for his evening adventures.

Ram was in a red button down with beige chinos. Normally he wore his short hair pretty much naturally; tonight he had some product in it so it was spiky. It wasn't too spiky or to neat; it almost looked like he'd had it professionally done. He looked more casual than I did, but I was usually the bait that lured the perp.

Woody looked at my outfit and asked me to take off the tourmaline necklace.

"Why?"

"Because it will turn you on to that guy's psyche in ways that could damage you if it catches you unaware. You probably shouldn't wear it for distractions."

"But …"

"No buts," he said trying to be stern.

"I wasn't going to argue, I just don't have anything to wear around my neck now and it feels kind of bare." I'd just proven that fashion was still as big a priority as ever.

Ram took something off that had been around his own neck. "Do you want to see how this looks?" he asked.

It was a fine sterling silver figaro chain with a small star on the very bottom of it. It looked like a Star of David, but the star was five pointed instead of six. The necklace was warm from his body heat and it gave me the shivers when it touched my skin.

"Thanks Ram," I said as he clasped it around my neck.

The necklace fell a little lower than the tourmaline did. In fact, it fell to about the perfect place on my cleavage for that particular dress. It was a little arrow saying, "Easy access to breasts, this way."

"It wouldn't have been better if I'd picked it out myself," Woody said with a smile.

"Anybody have the wire?" I asked.

Ram pulled the device out of his pocket and asked if I wanted help.

"No thanks, be right back."

I was almost back from the bedroom when I heard Woody saying, "You've never let anyone wear that, not even your son."

"It felt right to have her wear it. She still doesn't know my energy very well, maybe this will help."

"You could have done other things before now," Woody said in a scolding tone.

"It never felt right and I never wanted to put her in a position where she was out of choices. Besides, with us it's always been about work until tonight."

"This is still about work, Evan, and don't forget that."

I made some noise so they'd know that I was heading their way. I didn't want them to know I'd overheard anything they'd had to say.

We were in the parking lot going over the final details when I realized I didn't know who was backing us up tonight.

"Who else is part of the takedown party?" I asked.

"Erik and Brett will be inside. I'll be outside with Cal," Woody said. "Remember, I love you, Steph. Be safe in there."

"We will, promise. I love you too, Woody." It had become tradition and I didn't care who heard it.

We were shown to a separate entrance to the club to avoid the metal detector. I didn't have a weapon of any kind, but Ram must've, I just didn't see it.

Once we were inside, we stopped at the bar to get something to drink from Brett who offered to let me have anything I wanted for free if I let him have five minutes alone with me. Brett had been so focused on me and trying to flirt that he didn't see Ram, that is until Ram grabbed him by the shirt.

"You're pretty uptight tonight," I said to Ram as I uncurled his fingers one by one from Brett's shirt. "Brett is harmless."

"I resent that, Steph," Brett said. "But you're safe when I'm working. I don't usually do this kind of a thing, I'm sorry, to both of you."

We picked up our drinks and made a brief tour of the room.

He asked the question that had apparently been on his mind, "Is there something going on with you and Woody? I thought you were just friends."

"Nope. There never has been. Do you mean the 'I love you' in the parking lot?"

He nodded.

"We really are just friends. He doesn't like to leave loose ends in the event something happens. It's become tradition between us and I like it."

He looked relieved but still a little uncertain.

"You're going to have to get more comfortable with me than buddy-buddy if we're going to get this to work. Would you be happier if Woody replaces you? He's played the boyfriend role with me several times and he's about the same size as you are. You guys could swap clothes or something."

"I know he's worked with you a lot, but I _really_ want to do this," he said as he took my hand. He walked me into a covert corner and bracketed my face in his hands. I was filled with trepidation and excitement over the potential kiss. It started off whisper soft and tentative. Almost immediately it escalated so all I could sense and feel was longing and desire bundled in a tightly controlled package.

Words can't describe how good the kiss was. Actually there are a few words to describe the kiss: hot, barely contained, and dangerous. Ram wasn't done with the kiss before I'd undone four of the buttons on his shirt. He gently placed his hands over mine to prevent me from opening it any further or perhaps from using my best Braille technique to read his chest.

"Still afraid I'll be too uptight to do this?" he asked when he got his own breath back and closed his shirt.

"Ahhh," I started to say but nothing intelligible was coming out.

"Good," he said as he dropped a quick kiss on my lips. "Oh and one more button and you would've exposed my holster. I need to teach you about some concealment techniques next week."

That explained the strange bump under his shirt but not the ample bulge in his pants. Hey, at least I wasn't the only one who was going to be sexually frustrated.

After slow and torturous grinding the dance floor and some borderline intimate touching, we finally spotted the skip. Actually Ram spotted him, I kept getting sidetracked thinking about the fact I was going to need to take a long shower when I got home.

We wandered back to the bar, I was having a difficult time walking. Ram waved his hand to Brett and asked for 'two more of the same', meaning club sodas. I noticed that Johns had the cat's seat here; you could see almost everything that had been happening on the dance floor. So he must have noticed the touching and whatnotting that Ram and I were doing. The whole world probably noticed what we'd been up to, but it was all done for the sake of our cover story. Right and I own a piece of the Brooklyn Bridge, too.

"You look like a man who enjoys adventure," I said trying to sound a little frisky.

"Sweet thing, what do you have in mind? Could it be parachuting, climbing a mountain or white water rafting?" Johns asked with a wink and a smile.

"No, I'm not that adventuresome. I like indoor sports; you know like wrestling."

Ram appeared behind me and used his lips to graze on my neck a little, "Nora, you shouldn't bother the man. He's here for a good time."

"But baby, he looks like he enjoys wrestling and other indoor sports," I said with a moan. I wasn't faking the moan and I think Ram could tell.

Ram began doing things with his lips and tongue that set off an all too familiar ache that had long since gone unsatisfied, at least socially. Damn, he was good at that.

"Tag team wrestling?" Johns asked.

"Is there any other kind?" Ram asked nibbling on my ear and rubbing one hand across my collarbone and under the shoulder strap of the dress. His other hand was creeping up and down my thigh; the sensation was so hot it felt like he was branding my skin. "Well, maybe a little two on one."

Ram was distracting me more than I was distracting the skip; this wasn't the way it was supposed to work. I gasped a couple of times and tried to suppress the purr that kept escaping my lips.

"I'm sure I'd be willing to find out," Johns said trying to get me out of Ram's hold so he could kiss me. "I'd play either way."

"Why don't _we_ save the kissing until we're somewhere more _private_," I said leaning back into Ram's arms, all the while hoping I sounded sexy and not sick. Ewww.

In less than five more minutes we had the skip out the door and into the dark recesses of the parking lot. Woody easily handled the takedown with Cal. Actually, Ram handled more of it than the other two. I think he broke the skip's nose as soon as we cleared the building. He growled something at the skip no one else heard.

My apartment had been scoured for terrorist dust bunnies when I tried to hand Ram back his necklace.

"Would you mind wearing it until the next time you're scheduled to be at the range?"

"But it's an important piece to you," I started to say.

"Please?"

"Ok, but you get it back on Monday."

"Thanks for wearing it tonight," he said as he kissed me gently. "See you Monday."

I went to sleep and kept dreaming of further explorations of Ram's chest. I wanted to play my own little game of show and tell. Just exactly how long was it going to take for Prince Charming to fall from the sky, knock on my door and make his way into my bedroom?

xx

I called Woody the next day.

"Woody, what was the big deal about Ram's necklace."

"You remember about you, stones and energy?" he asked.

"Yeah. Different stones have different properties and sometimes I absorb those energies."

"Well, some metals, silver and gold for example, as well as gemstones also absorb the energy of the person who wears it."

"And?"

"And Ram doesn't like to have other people pick up on his energy that way. Usually if someone borrows his stuff, he immediately clears it so he doesn't mix their energy with his."

"Would it be a big deal if he didn't clear his necklace after I wore it?"

"If it was me, no. Our energy works well together and we've probably been married in a past life or something. For Ram it is a really big deal. Since the divorce, he's been cautious; for him it is a very intimate thing."

There was silence on the line since I didn't know quite what to say.

"Did something happen between you two that I need to know about?" Woody asked.

"Nope. It was just a job," I said. "Thanks for the info."

Oh boy. I'd just been intimate and didn't even know it.

xx

When Ranger got back from wherever he'd been, he was apparently no different than when he left. He was a few pounds lighter and he had shadows under his eyes but he was still very much the private man I knew. It seemed nothing changed or ever fazed him, unless it was Grandma Mazur trying to pinch his rear.

I had been working on some rushes for Rodriguez and I hadn't realized the time.

"Always work this late, Babe?" he asked. He knew damned well I did it on an as needed basis.

"Not normally, but you do what you have to do to get the job done, you know? Besides, it isn't like I'm going home to anyone other than Rex."

"How are things with your e-mail friend?"

Where was that coming from?

"I don't know. The same, I guess. I haven't heard much from him lately."

"Are you going to end it?"

"That's not very nice, there's no reason to end the friendship."

He looked at me.

"He dropped an e-mail a few days ago; he's been out of town," I said coming to my friend's defense.

"Have you eaten yet?" he asked changing the subject.

"No. Want me to go out and get something for you?"

"I was going to call Ella for a sandwich. Would you join me?"

I agreed and shut down my computer for the night. Even a simple sandwich made by Ella was better than something I could buy at a deli and it was friendlier on my wallet.

He called Ella before we headed to seven. After he opened the door, he excused himself to change.

I noticed he had a laptop on the coffee table. I bumped the table with my leg, once again employing my catlike reflexes and the screen came back on. It was a Yahoo sign in screen. It didn't look like the one I use, but my computer signs me in automatically once I open the browser.

I just realized that I'd reactivated his computer when he came back into the room. He didn't look at me and just shut the whole thing down.

"I e-mail Julie from a private account. I don't like to run it through the office," he said looking like he was trying to cover something up.

Before the conversation could get more awkward, Ella knocked.

He and I ate at the breakfast bar and were mostly silent. It wasn't the strange silence you have when you are fighting with someone; it was companionable and pleasant.

After we were done and I tidied up and I was getting ready to leave for the night.

"Would you stay for a while?" he asked.

"Gonna pressure me?" I countered still feeling a little of the earlier sting about my friend.

"No. It isn't often that I want company," he said, "and tonight I'd like to be with you."

"Can I brush your hair?" I asked. It sounded like an odd request, but I loved the feeling of his hair under my hands. Plus, the last evening I was here we'd had a hard time finding conversation and I wasn't in good form for talking tonight as noted by the foot in the mouth in the office.

He went into the bathroom and got his hairbrush. He returned to the living room and held his hand out to me. "You can sit on the bed, I'll be on the floor. So you know, I want to go to sleep soon."

I stroked his hair, which was so much easier than doing my own. His hair has a silky quality that doesn't seem to tangle. I kept running the brush through his hair and he began to relax. Soon he began to breathe deeply and his head began to nod forward. It was probably not such a good idea for him to sleep on the floor; even though I knew first hand he could sleep in far worse places and had.

"Ranger," I whispered.

"Hmmm."

"Ranger, you need to get into bed. It's late and you're exhausted."

He didn't say anything, but stood up and crawled onto the other side of the bed. I attempted to get off the bed so I could go home.

"Don't leave, Babe. Stay," he said as he coaxed me onto my back.

"You'll sleep better if I'm not here," I said struggling to get up again and not getting very far.

"Want to be home again," he murmured. "Be home with me. Please?"

It was easier to stay than to argue, besides, I loved those sheets and the mattress. He rolled onto his side and his arm went around my waist. While I was asleep I felt the familiar lips on my neck. It took me a minute to realize I wasn't home and that someone's lips were actually on my neck, Ranger's. It was all very déjà vu.

xx

On a Saturday in the middle of October, Fairy Godmother's Closet coordinated a witches' ball with the local covens. In the past, the group would either rent space at a local VFW hall or find a grange type building. I was good enough to be hired as one of the readers for the night. I got my schedule cleared and rented the Serena the Snake Charmer costume.

I put up signs in the break room in case any of the guys other than Woody wanted to go. There wasn't a lot of interest. There was a lot more interest when I posted a picture of what my costume was going to look like, it was kind of a belly dancing thing, bikini type top with flowing skirt. I finally got my tummy muscles really flat and wanted to show them off.

It was a great party and I was emotionally exhausted when it was over. I read from 9:00 p.m. until 3:00 the next morning. The more palms I read, the more my energy went up. Only problem was driving home, I had no recollection of it whatsoever. I was just glad I wasn't responsible for getting anyone else home, I don't know if I would've been capable.

I got home wrote an e-mail about my adventure, put my feet up on the sofa and didn't move until 6:00 the next evening when Ranger was looking at me.

"Nice outfit, joining a harem?" he asked.

"Wha? No, costume party last night," I said when I found my voice and could focus my eyes.

"Quite a party," he said.

"Yeah, when the energy buzz wore off I crashed and burned," I said as I struggled to get off the sofa. "What are you doing here anyway?"

"Distraction tonight in an hour. You haven't been answering your phone," he said.

"Tell me about the job while I get cleaned up," I said while I turned on the shower. I completed that ritual in record time.

He talked to me through the bathroom door while I removed and reapplied my makeup, and brushed out and re-did my hair. He continued talking while I was in the closet going through possible clothing options.

"I should give you less notice to do this," he said.

"What?"

"This is probably the fastest I've ever seen you get ready," he said.

Smart-ass.

"I know that Halloween is your favorite holiday. Are you doing anything to celebrate it?"

"Actually I'm going to do the Samhain festival with Woody and his girlfriend. It's the Saturday right before. Do you want to come? I'm leaving before the sun goes down," I said. I didn't know if they'd do a public ritual like they did for Beltane, but I didn't want to take any chances of being there if they did.

"Calling it Samhain now?"

"Well, that's what they call it and it is the proper name for it in their religion."

"Babe."

"Are you giving candy to kids this year or are you doing a stakeout?" I asked.

"Neither. Are you ready to go?" he asked.

"Keep your shirt on," I said wishing he'd take it off for just a couple of hours. I really needed to get a grip on my hormones. With time instead of improving, my grip was beginning to slip.

It was a quiet and uneventful distraction, mostly because there wasn't one. Due to bad intel, the skip never showed and I spent an evening in a bar avoiding lechers while biding my time trying not to look bored.

After three hours, Ranger finally canceled the job for the night.

I got home, pulled off the outfit, removed my make-up and turned on the computer. It had become habit in recent weeks to check the computer almost as soon as I came through the door.

The typical spam was there, one of these days I was going to have to learn about spam filters. There was no quote of the day, which was disappointing because I'd gotten to where I looked forward to see what the day would bring. There was, however, one e-mail from CO and it made me suck in my breath when I read it.

_P,_

_I'd like to know if you would meet me Halloween night. I  
promise I'm not one of the crazies._

_A late evening dinner someplace nice. What do you think?_

_It isn't a trick, I promise._

_CO_

_The way to see by faith is to shut the eye of reason  
Benjamin Franklin_

I thought, actually hoped, that he'd never really want to meet. I kind of liked this distance thing; it was safe but intimate at the same time. He'd never said a word about his palm and the 'discussions' had all gone back to being very superficial in nature.

_CO,_

_Two conditions about dinner. _

_First I'll need to know about dress code so I can buy  
something appropriate. I actually have a lot of clothes, but I  
don't have a lot of things that work for somewhere nice._

_Secondly, I'd like to know why you chose Café Ole for your  
'name'. Are you big on coffee or something?_

_P_

I went to bed and found an e-mail waiting for me when I got up.

_P,_

_I don't usually take the time to do anything special anymore  
with anyone, but this is different. I'd like to celebrate  
getting to know you._

_I don't want you to have to worry about budgets or dress  
codes, so I've arranged to have several items sent to the  
store for your approval. That is if you are OK with that. It  
would mean a lot to me._

_I know you don't like accepting things, but this was my idea  
and I want it to be my treat._

_I don't want you to worry about anything._

_As to your second request: I don't have a coffee preference,  
I like it all, so you'll get no help there. Café Ole doesn't spell  
a word or make a name. I have enough nicknames. I'll  
explain the Café Ole thing in person._

_Does this mean yes?_

_CO_

_You just reminded me of what's really important in life,  
friends, best friends.  
Fanny Flagg from the book Fried Green Tomatoes_

I didn't respond and I didn't breathe. God this was happening. It was almost like watching a train or car accident happening with no way to slow it down or to stop it. I wasn't even sure if I wanted to stop it at this point.

My curiosity had been getting the better of me for weeks, OK, months. I'd wanted a face and voice to put to this person who had been there for me. But now that it might actually happen, was scaring the shit out of me.

xx

The next day I had done the standard weekly reports for the office. I sometimes got e-mails from the guys and would format their answers into the regular report form. Since I needed to log office time anyway, it was just as easy for me to do theirs as it was my own, sometimes.

I went into Ranger's office to drop off some reports and heard something on the stereo that I didn't recognize.

"What's the music you've got playing?"

"Vivaldi's Four Seasons. Anything I can do for you, Babe?" he asked never lifting his head from his desk.

"Just dropping off," I said.

He grunted in response and immediately went back to what he was working on with tremendous industry.

When I got home, I crossed my fingers and sent back an e-mail saying "_yes_" to the dinner offer and hoped that this was going to be a good thing.

A/N: the blind leap of faith should prove to be interesting ... as always, thanks for reading and reviewing, Alf


	29. Chapter 27

Disclaimer: Still not seeing a cent pass my palm, as it should be. JE owns anyone and anything you recognize.

I deem this to be Beta appreciation day, and so would like to thank the group for doing such a fantastic job for keeping me on track.

**Nothing But Time On My Hands  
Chapter 27  
by Alfonsina**

I got a call from the store half an hour before closing time. A woman had shown up with a rolling clothing rack of designer clothing stating she had some items for me to approve. Ronny said she kept returning to her car for more items. He said I needed to get there before she took over all the available surfaces in the store and turned his store into a high-end boutique.

When I got to Fairy Godmother's, a very trendy woman was waiting for me. She looked like she shouldn't wander the candle section or she might hurt herself. Actually she looked like Ronny trying to flirt with her might hurt her, too. She might have been trendy, but she was also just a wee bit uptight.

"Bertha, Bertha Luna. It's nice to meet you. It is Ms. Plum, isn't it?" she asked with a wide smile.

"Yes, Stephanie actually."

It turned out that she shopped for a living. Why hadn't I thought of that? It sounded like a slice of heaven to me. In the long run maybe that would be a better career choice.

"There have been a number of pieces pre-selected for you to choose from. You may try them on at home, here or we can go to my office. I will be handling any alterations and all of your selections. If you don't find anything in today's choices, we are to go shopping together until you find something to your taste."

Oh God. This was the kind of stuff that was in the really glossy magazines that no one could afford to buy much less wear. And yet there were no less than forty dresses, maybe thirty pairs of shoes. There were even things that would have made Victoria keep a new secret. All the items were presented for my perusal and potential approval.

"This is all gonna be rented, right? I mean, I'll never have the opportunity to wear it again," I said crossing my fingers. The clothes and accessories were too pretty for a distraction and I never went anyplace that was all that nice. It would be a shame to see them sitting in the closet unworn years after this dinner was over.

"No. Whatever you choose will be yours to keep. Prices have been removed from all the articles so that you can make a selection based strictly on what you like not cost."

"Have you met him?" I asked Bertha.

She said with a smile, "This was set up by the friend of a friend of a friend. I was just told which items to bring, where and when."

Great. No help here.

"Anything you can tell me at all?"

"Just that you get to be a princess for one night with no cares and no worries," she said. "Sweetie, if you don't absolutely love something, I'll shop for or with you until we find just the perfect thing. It's what I do."

Three hours later, I had tried on everything once and the pieces I really thought flattered me two or three times. I finally chose on a black wrap dress that had cap sleeves and a kind of sweetheart neckline and it wrapped around my body making my curves look better than they did on their own. The tag read Michael Koors. All I knew about him was that he was expensive and was a judge on some reality TV show.

The shoes were conservative for me; black leather with minute straps crossing the toes and wrapping around my foot. The shoes were utter perfection with the dress. It was a shame the weather was changing because they could easily become my favorite shoes.

I chose a simple, black cashmere shawl to go with the dress. I didn't have any coats that would go with the dress and the dress by itself was not going to keep me warm on the drive home.

The underwear I selected was gorgeous and had very shear black lace with insets; the fabric couldn't have been finer unless it had been made from a spider web. To achieve the maximum sultry effect, I was going to need a full Brazilian. I wanted to feel sexy from the skin out and this was the only set that could do that for me. The other choices were pretty, but this set was exquisite. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity, so I accepted it.

The day after I picked out the clothing, Ronny sent me a text that I had an after hours palm reading to do at the Wrong Number. Someone named Kip was in turmoil and thought I'd be able to help him make a decision. I had no plans, so it suited me just fine.

I got to the Wrong Number and saw Woody, Morgan and Ram having a beer. I pulled up a chair joined them at their table while I waited for my 6:45 appointment.

"So are you ready for Samhain and the festival?" Morgan asked me but she was smiling at Woody.

"Not really. I'm ready to get candy fifty percent off the day after Halloween, but not so sure about Samhain. Something I need to know about?" I asked her.

"Great rite," Woody said softly.

"Oh. OH," I said emphatically shaking my head. "Nope. No. Not doing it. I don't even know if I'll make the festival." Now I was sure I really didn't want to be around any additional sexual chemistry.

"You have to come. I've got a bunch of people who want to start exchanging time with you. You'll extend all your contacts. It'll be great," Morgan said.

Morgan's eyes were shining. I wasn't sure if it was because of the festival itself or the after party. Since she and Woody had gotten together, things had moved pretty quickly for the two of them.

"You never know who you might meet," Ram said.

Ram's cell rang calling him to a client emergency. Some days are long just by the very nature of the business.

Someone with a basket of cookies headed to the bar looking for a signature. The bartender pointed her in our direction.

Sure enough, it was for me: To Palmist from Café Ole

The note inside said:

_Palmist,_

_Just like I promised, I didn't send flowers, but I needed  
a way to get this to you._

_Enclosed is a certificate for day spa treatments. I didn't  
know what you liked so I decided to let you choose any  
or all. _

_You will be picked up Friday evening at the location of  
your choosing. _

_Please call the number on the business card to tell the  
driver where to meet you. _

_I am looking forward to Halloween evening._

_CO_

_You always have two choices: your commitment versus your fear.  
Sammy Davis, Jr._

He'd even enclosed my fee for the reading that didn't happen. Just like old times. Shit. This was real and it was going to happen and I wasn't ready, not at all. Shit. Shit. Shit.

"What's going on, Steph? You've lost all your coloring," Woody said.

"An unexpected gift," I said.

I thought I'd had some control, I mean just a little bit. Now I'm supposed to go to the spa all day to get primped by someone else just to meet this guy? I had my own primping plans, thank you very much. I'm not dense, I mean the clothes told me I wasn't going to go to McDonalds and a lot nicer than TGI Friday's, but this was really pushing my buttons. Frankly it was scaring the hell out of me. I was also pissed off because it seemed like he was exerting control.

Woody looked at me, picked up my hand and let it go like he'd been singed.

"You are not OK, not at all. Morgan, can you go to the car and get the small bag out of the back. Steph needs something from it."

"I can just get whatever it is and bring that, right?"

"No. She's all messed up and I can't get a good read on her. We're going to need to test a bunch of things," he said.

Woody took both of my hands and had me close my eyes before our foreheads touched. Instantly I became calm and quiet. I didn't realize my breathing had been erratic until it calmed and evened out again.

Morgan came back in and put her hands on my shoulders and an even bigger wave of calm came over me. Eventually she removed her hands from my shoulders and opened the bag.

Woody started pulling things out of the bag saying, "No. Not that one. Nope. Not that either. Where the hell is it? I know it's in here somewhere. I just can't find it. Steph, put your hand in and see if you can feel something looking for you."

"What do you mean?"

"You know how you put your hand over the baskets when you chose stones for yourself or for a client?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said, "what's that got to do with this?"

"You need something that is in here and I can't tell what it is. In order for me to get you grounded, I lost my own center. It'll be back, but we've got to fix you now. I mean I've felt you seriously out of whack before, but this was extreme even for you."

"Sure," I said. It felt almost like a compliment. I'd seen him bring some people back to center who were way out there before, so I must have been way, way out.

I opened the bag and started to run my hand over the various items. I had my eyes closed and I said, "Tell Ranger to sit down, I'm not ready to deal with him yet."

"Steph, he hasn't even walked all the way through the door yet," he said.

"She's getting good," Morgan said. "She'll be up there with Marsha soon if she keeps working."

I didn't want to become Mary Poppins. It isn't my life's ambition to go where the wind blows me. No, I want a little more stability than that, at least short term.

I kept my eyes closed even as I could feel Ranger crossing the room. I held up a finger on my left hand as I continued to run my right hand an inch or so over the stones and other items. My hand finally settled on a ring that had silver, copper and gold braided through it.

"Most people need that more than they think," Morgan said to me.

"Why?"

"Gold is masculine and silver is feminine, the copper kind of binds the two together," she said.

"Take 'em out," Woody said to me.

"What?"

"The stones in your bra. You've burned them out. You haven't been charging them again, have you?" Woody asked.

"No. I forget," I said.

I was tired and had a long day so I stuck my right hand into the left side of my bra and began to remove stones. Then I changed hands and removed stones from the other side. When I was done there was a large pile in the middle of the table.

"Babe," Ranger said, lips twitching, "more rocks in your bra?"

"Well, it's cheaper than therapy," I sighed. I hadn't even noticed that he was sitting next to me.

"Morgan, remind me to put these in salt water at home tonight," Woody said.

"Guys, I'm going to get out of here. Woody and Morgan, thanks for keeping me company," I said. "Night Ranger."

"Babe, let me walk you out," he said as he put his hand on my shoulder.

I knew better than to argue, he steered me out the door and towards my car.

"What got you so rattled in there?" he asked.

"I feel like an idiot," I said. "I'm just overreacting."

"Not more flowers?"

"No. No more flowers, this time it was cookies and a gift certificate," I said. I didn't need to say whom it was from, he'd already figured that out.

"Cookies are worse than flowers?" he asked with an attempt at seriousness.

"No. It's just that I am out of my depth and am feeling a little exposed. It's like he knows everything about me and I know nothing about him, not really. I'm feeling like I'm being set up."

"You probably know more than you think," he said softly.

"Can you tell me anything about what you've found out?" I asked. I mean it was the eleventh hour, but still I'd like to know something.

"Babe, he's been all about cash transactions. People remember getting cash for deliveries and purchases, but nothing has been delivered by the same service twice and never from the same address. The only thing Café Ole Inc. has ever done, from what we can see, is pay your internet and phone bills. There's not been a lot to track. Even the e-mails come from various locations. Wish I could tell you more," he said a little sadly.

"Thanks," I mumbled.

"Is there anything else you want or need to tell me? Do you need to call something off?" he asked sounding concerned.

"No. It's going to be fine."

"Do you want me to drive you home?" he asked.

"No. Like I said, it's all going to be fine."

I got home and checked e-mail, nothing. I sent one that was short and sweet.

"_I got the cookies and the spa certificate. Thanks. It affected me in ways you'll probably never know_."

I figured that way I'd said thanks and didn't say 'you are beginning to creep me out' but he would know that it had a definite impact.

xx

I made a phone call to the spa to book appointments for Thursday and Friday. I looked at the undies I was going to wear with the dress and decided I'd do the Brazilian wax first and get it over with. My skin's kind of sensitive and _that_ skin is very sensitive, best to let it have as much time as possible to heal. The certificate was good for any and all spa services so I made a day of it. I booked a full body massage, mani-pedi with hot wax, facial, plus hair and make up treatments.

I also called the number on the bottom of the card to arrange for the driver. He told me that he would need an hour and a half to get me to my final destination, but wouldn't tell me where that might be. Ultimately I gave him my home address for the pickup, it was a one-time deal and it wasn't as though my 'friend' was going to see my humble digs.

I decided that I wasn't going to spend the rest of the time worrying about anything, I was going to bring in Ray Butler if it was the last thing I was going to do. Besides, looking for him I wouldn't need to think about the pending wax job. Why don't men have to sacrifice for beauty?

xx

I had been following Ray Butler around town for the better part of a week, trying to get him to ensure my November rent would be paid. He'd been caught trying to make change in the collection plate at church without first making a charitable contribution. He tried to make change after hours, after the money had been counted and was ready to be deposited in the Church's general fund.

My friend from high school, Marissa Schoen, worked for the bank Ray Butler used for his personal funds. I had called her earlier to ask if she saw any funny deposits on his behalf. She called me when he got in her teller line.

To sum up, Marissa got the money for the police to use as evidence, I got muddied knees and Mr. Butler got a trip to the cop shop. It was a good thing I'd decided to have a manicure Friday; I broke three nails when I caught him by the belt loops. What can I say, denim can be pretty tough stuff.

xx

Thursday morning, with more than a little trepidation, I drove myself to the day spa to become a better me. Had I realized it was going to take two women to hold me down during the waxing trauma, I might have just shaved with a new blade. There are just some places where that much pain should never be inflicted. I hadn't come out of the haze when I realized I was getting my legs, pits and eyebrows waxed, too. I can't believe I did this voluntarily. I should've asked Bobby for a sedative before I started out this morning. The pain might have been the same but I wouldn't have cared about it.

I felt the aftershocks for hours and walked funny most of the rest of the day. I ran into Erik on the street. He asked if I'd been in a fight or something.

"Not exactly, I'll be fine. Promise."

"As long as you're OK," he said.

By the end of Friday I had that new car glow and shine about me. I'd been waxed, buffed, cleaned, oiled, repainted and felt like I even had new tires under me. One of these days I was going to have to come up with more romantic comparisons, but I don't drive a new car often and think they're pretty darned special. All I needed was the pine-scented doohickeys to wear around my neck and I'd be perfection itself.

I got home with barely enough time to put on all the new clothes. I looked like a very high-end version of me when I got done. The hair and makeup still let me look like me, but better. I looked very polished and refined. The dress definitely wasn't something I would've used for a distraction. It was timeless, likely if I kept my shape, it would work for me for the next twenty or more years. Even though I knew I wasn't planning to have sex, the undies were the kind of thing I would buy if I ever got married again; they said nasty in all the right ways.

I spent a lot of time considering what should go in the purse. I had selected a sleek black clutch but realized it wasn't going to hold any of the necessities. Just the week before, I had found a purse holster on E-Bay from Galco that would hide my little .38 S & W. It wasn't my Ram approved Detonics, but it was small and easily concealable. The gun fit in a hidden compartment and the rest of the purse looked like a purse, maybe a little wider but not by much. Besides, if I spilled the contents of my bag, the gun would remain safely hidden.

I put in the standard operating necessities for the evening: lipstick, cell phone (charged), hanky, comb, ID, pepper spray, credit card, fifty dollars cash and two condoms. I wasn't planning for anything, but you never know and better to be safe.

At exactly 7:00 there was a knock on my door. I opened it to somebody who looked like he was twelve. Ok, so maybe that's an exaggeration, but not by much. It didn't look like he was old enough to shave yet. He was so short I didn't think he'd be to see over the steering wheel without sitting on a phone book. I was really feeling my age, I couldn't remember the last time I'd been carded and this kid didn't look old enough to have a 'card' yet. It was too much to ask for a copy of his driver's license, copy of his birth certificate and a note from his mother allowing him to be out late, but the idea crossed my mind.

"Ms. Plum are you ready?" he asked.

"Yes. As ready as I am going to be." I said.

I gathered my purse, keys, shawl and a small box and was escorted to the elevator.

"What's your name," I asked.

"You can call me Hank," he said.

"That really your name?" I asked.

"No, but it'll work for tonight," he said.

Great, he was just what I needed; another smart-ass.

"I was told not to give you any details. Hank was the first name that came to mind," he said with a shrug.

Terrific.

I tried to keep up the small talk on the way to the parking lot. It didn't work. Evidently 'Hank' thought everything was a detail even his opinion on the weather. This had the makings of a long night or at least for a long drive. God I hope he isn't my date.

"Can you tell me where we're going?" I tried again.

"Nope."

This kid could work for Rangeman. He was perfecting the one word answer and stepping on my raw nerves all at the same time.

When we got to the parking lot, I couldn't help but notice the stretch limousine. It was the kind of thing that they used for bachelorette parties or state funerals. I'd never been in one before, it conjured up images of limo sex and all sorts of fun adult pursuits, not that I had any first hand knowledge of that.

"Are we picking anyone else up?" I asked hoping this car ride wouldn't be just the two of us at our conversational best.

"It's just you, Ms. Plum," he said. "Do you need anything before I raise the privacy glass?"

"Music maybe?" I asked. I was hoping for heavy metal to soothe my nerves but instead found myself listening to Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin and other sorted crooners. It was making me think of Grandma and her comments about Cary Grant, this music fit that era, but I had a feeling when I got wherever I was going, Cary Grant wouldn't be on the other side of the door. With my luck I'd be driven around for more than an hour and delivered to a homeless shelter or soup kitchen.

In the over an hour and change I was alone with the ancient crooners, I examined pretty much every detail of the inside of the limo I could because the TV didn't work. I counted the number of stitches in the seams of the seats. I tried to figure out how old the bottles of liquor were; I mean were they really that old or were they being topped off regularly? Were the little crystal tumblers real crystal or just pressed glass? Left to my own devises I would probably have checked under the floor mats to see how well it had last been vacuumed, but it was too dark to see much, even with the extra lighting.

I spent much of the ride looking for ways to shut down my brain without getting into the liquor, I thought it was best to keep control of my faculties. I tried not to play the whole "The Bachelorette" TV show in my brain, trying to figure out who this man of mystery was. I didn't want to worry about what anything might mean or what was going on. I really should have put a Tastykake or something in my purse to calm my nerves. I needed some sugar and I was going to need it soon and hadn't put one in my purse. I wanted to go straight to Denial Land and I was headed to Reality World, unprepared.

The car finally came to a stop and my door was opened. Hank offered me his hand and helped me out of the car.

"Are you allowed to tell me where I am now?"

"Welcome to Philadelphia, Ms. Plum. This is Le Bec Fin."

I'd heard about this place. I couldn't even afford the valet parking here and now I was supposed to eat here. I don't have enough table manners to use the ladies' room in a place like this much less actually have a meal with someone. I looked for an avenue of escape and saw none. I was screwed.

He pressed the buzzer by the door to gain my entrance. There was a little entranceway with a small counter so I could check in like a library book. One young woman took my shawl and hid it somewhere in the bowels of the building; another showed me to my table.

It reminded me of going to the museum with the girls. The place was elegant and sophisticated. It was opulent and lush. It was everything I wasn't and I still couldn't find a way to make an escape without first being detected or causing a scene. If I did escape, the shawl would be collateral damage; I'd never be able to find it and I'd never be able to afford to replace it.

I found myself escorted to a semi-private dining room at a largish table that had a number of roses placed next to a cut crystal vase. The room was devoid of anyone other than someone in uniform and me. At least no one would know that I had no idea which fork to use.

I was seated at the only chair at the table; I was to have my back to the door. I had been around Ranger long enough to know that was the most vulnerable chair in any room and I wanted to move it but didn't know how to say that without looking like a fool. I was alone in a room in an expensive restaurant and would probably be spending the evening by myself from the looks of things.

The young man in uniform, named Andreas, introduced himself as my 'captain'. This place was too fancy for waiters; they had 'captains'. Then the sommelier brought a wine list the size of a small-town phonebook. It had a metal doorknocker affixed to the leather cover. I already figured out they wouldn't have wine in a box, but some of these bottles rivaled the amount I spent in rent every month.

I was hoping I might recognize some or even any of the words in the wine list, I figured I wouldn't know what any of the names on the bottles meant, but I could recognize words like 'bouquet' and 'fruity'.

I had opened the wine list when Andreas said, "Before you begin, I've been asked to explain some things about these roses to you." He indicated the roses on the table and I just sort of nodded.

"The light pink rose represents admiration," he said as he put it in the vase.

Next he picked up the white rose and said, "You are revered for your innocence and humility."

I nodded as he put it in the vase. This was both painful and embarrassing. It was sort of like the flower a day ordeal but with roses in a public place. At least no one else was going to be witness to this.

"The yellow rose is in the hopes that you will have fond remembrances of this evening and that you will feel great joy at those memories."

I was still breathing, but it was shallow.

The dark pink rose went into the vase with the words, "Thank you for coming tonight. This has long been anticipated."

I nodded.

Finally an orange rose was put in the vase with the words, "You live your life with great enthusiasm, and it is hoped that you never let that fire burn out."

Andreas said there was one more flower for the arrangement, but that someone else would need to explain it. With that, Andreas placed a second chair at the table and left the room. I felt someone else come in.

A hand came from behind the chair and held a single red rose.

"The red rose represents love, desire and respect; all things I feel for you. Thank you for joining me tonight Stephanie," the familiar voice said.

A/N: So, now you have three or more guesses?? please review! alf.


	30. Alternate Ending A

Standard disclaimers and thanks apply, and need be multiplied many times over.

Again, without the bevy of beautiful betas, I'd be nowhere.

A/N: This is the first of the three alternate endings. If this one does not suit, there will be two more posted.

**Nothing But Time on My Hands  
Alternate Ending – Alternate Ending A  
by Alfonsina**

I looked up and saw it was Binky. Binky?

"Happy Halloween, Steph. I'm glad you took a chance and came tonight," Binky said with a kiss to my cheek.

"Thank you for inviting me, but this is just far and away too much," I said smiling up and him while doing my best invitation of Vanna White indicating the room. It was smallish, intimate and had to be ungodly expensive. Everything tonight had to be extremely costly.

"I've never done anything like it before," he looked a wee bit shy.

"But you didn't have to …"

I would have gone on, but he leaned in for a gentle kiss and I promptly forgot what I was going to say.

"Are you sure there's no chemistry between us?"

"About that," he said, "I lied." He kissed me again, this time longer and more deeply.

When I came out of the fog, I realized he'd just said that he lied? What the f-?

"Yeah. Remember when I asked you if you felt a tingle with me?"

I nodded. He gave some spectacular kisses and all I'd wanted to do was melt, but that'd been weeks ago.

"You aren't the only one to feel a tingle when we kiss, my body feels a jolt of electricity whenever I'm just near you." Glad I'm not the only one, guy. "I also knew if I kissed you again, we'd never have a chance to build a relationship or a friendship of any kind. I'd have turned it into a physical relationship pretty quickly; with no foundation. I've both had several relationships based strictly on chemistry and they don't last. So in my own self-interest, I lied to you. I want my next relationship to last for a very long time."

Look at the disaster known as Joe for evidence to support his case.

"I didn't know with any certainty if you wanted a relationship with someone, anyone, really. But I knew you would accept friendship. I wanted to fill that void in your life. I wanted to be the person who had no expectations, where you could be yourself."

"You definitely did that," I said. "And thank you for giving me that freedom. I've never had that kind of relationship before with anyone."

He summoned the sommelier and a bottle of Chateau-Way-Too-Expensive was brought to the table and poured. It was amazing.

"There've been times when I couldn't wait to see what story you'd send in your e-mails. You've done a lot of things in your life considering your age," I said. "Actually your e-mails are easily the bright spot in my day."

"I don't need a lot of sleep and my mind is always working," he smiled. "Thank you and I love hearing what you've got on your mind."

"We're sort of an odd couple. I mean sleep is one of my favorite sports," I said.

"Well, I have no problem staying in bed, with the right enticement," he said with a wink.

I know I blushed. If I'd have spoken, it would've been in a stammer.

"I was pretty smart as a kid and I was able to achieve pretty much anything I wanted," he said. "For me books are easy, people are hard."

"For me it seems to be the opposite. I barely finished college."

"I bet you had a good time in school."

"Based on what?"

"I've seen you play pool, and I've played against you," he said. "You are pretty good. But on a serious note you've got a sharp mind, you're inquisitive and tenacious. I really like that about you."

Oh yeah.

"Thanks. You aren't too bad yourself."

I'd been good and hadn't asked the things that were on my mind, but decided it was time to satisfy my curiosity.

"Why did you send flowers to me at the shop initially? Did you know their meanings?"

"I'd heard what Ranger had said and your reaction. The man is incredibly charming when he's in a professional capacity, but he has no social skills in real life. He'd made things awkward for you and you didn't deserve it." He sighed, "Yes I knew the meanings, and for the record the purple hyacinths were an apology for not showing you up front that I really wanted to be in your corner; kind of a pre-emptive apology."

"Why didn't you just talk to me, build a friendship that way?"

"Did you ever see the old black and white movie with Jimmy Stewart, Shop Around the Corner?"

"No."

"You've seen You've Got Mail, right?"

"One of the ultimate chick flicks, sure I've seen it."

"Shop Around the Corner is what You've Got Mail was based on. Kind of an updated remake. The point is, two people who worked together corresponded through an anonymous pen pal service and got to be who they weren't at work. They got to be themselves, no reservations. They built something when they weren't hiding behind pretence or expectation."

"I wouldn't have been reserved with you. I'm a pretty open book."

"Not you, me. I take rejection pretty hard and I wanted to be myself with you."

"But you are always yourself with me." At least I thought he was, his manner was always so natural and easy.

"No. I'm clumsy in social situations. I don't date very well and I can be possessive even when I don't have exclusive rights."

Oh really?

"I have a hard time with words, I like to contemplate what I'm going to say. I don't make as many mistakes that way. And I still make a lot of mistakes."

"I tend to be ready, fire, aim with mine. Between the two of us I think we have a nice medium," I said.

"When you e-mailed the question about regrets, I thought you were testing me. You know, about relationships."

"Actually, I was just looking for something to talk about. I also asked you about your favorite memories and the things you were proudest of accomplishing. I wanted to know about everything, I still do. You intrigue me."

"But the regrets was the hard one. I've never really gotten over what I put my ex-wife through. I was a bastard; I've learned a lot and think I'm a better man now."

I took his hand and squeezed it.

"I was wondering things more along the line of cheating on a test, opening Christmas presents early and re-wrapping them. I wasn't looking for something so deep, so emotional. I'm glad you told me and I'm sure in her own way, she still loves you."

He gave me a soft smile. A part of him would always belong to her because of their child; possibly the best of him.

A small plate of something wonderful was placed before me.

"Did we order and I missed it?"

"Actually, when you said yes, I consulted Brett about the menu here."

"What does Brett have to do with anything?"

"Brett went to culinary school afterward his stint in the Air Force, but decided he missed the action in the field. The boy knows food and has some major knife skills."

"Hand-to-hand or kitchen knife skills."

"Yes to both."

Well that answers that. I had neither hand-to-hand or kitchen knife skills.

"Anyway, I told him I was going to do something special for a friend and asked him to help make the choices."

"Did he know it was me?"

"No. I keep my own counsel. I like Brett, but he's the mouth of God. I didn't want you to know, just in case you changed your mind."

He'd planned a lot of things for quite a while, wow.

"Do you know what the most fun I've had in a long time was?" he asked.

I shook my head; probably it was something he did on his last mission.

"It was the distraction we did together at the car lot. It didn't take a lot for me to get into character for that. It's the kind of thing an average couple tends to do, but it can also be intimate, very telling."

"I take it you volunteered for that job?"

"I'd do anything to have an excuse to touch you without the chance of getting my ass kicked, you bet."

"Did you know that Tank said it was one of the most natural acting jobs he'd seen?"

"I wasn't acting. I was hoping and imagining what it might be like in real life," he said.

"You want two more kids?" I asked panicking remembering what he'd said about 'pregnancy hormones and our third'.

"Maybe, someday," he said. "I'm not in a rush to have another child, Steph. If it is right and it happens, it happens. It all depends on the woman and what we want together."

"I want to change subjects for a minute," I said trying to get past the whole potential baby thing. "For a guy who works in the security field, you have amazing taste in clothes. I love the dress and I'd like to thank you."

"I'm really glad you choose that one, it was my favorite. I knew you'd be gorgeous in it," he said. "And you are most welcome."

He picked up my hand and pressed a kiss into my palm.

"I'm just curious, why did you want to pick out the clothes and things?"

"I went to Art School after I finished high school and then promptly couldn't get a job. I went into the military to get a trade. Security is what pays the bills, but design and art are what I love. I like to think that I've kept the artist's eye. Clothing is an extension of art. It can enhance, improve, or reshape a figure."

"You were looking to hide my flaws?" I knew my figure flaws pretty well, but really hoped no one else had been paying attention to them.

"The opposite, you have a fantastic body, but all I ever see you in are jeans, your uniform or distraction outfits. I wanted to see you show off that charming shape of yours tonight to its best advantage. I think every woman deserves to feel like a princess once in a while without having to worry about expense or the details."

"I do feel amazing in the dress. Thank you for, well, everything. And I must say that you look incredible elegant tonight." And he did, too. Binky was wearing a traditional dark suit and light shirt with a tie, but everything clung just so.

"I haven't had a chance to wear a suit outside of a wedding or a funeral in a long time. Sometimes I like an excuse to dress up a little."

"Can you tell me what else you see with an artist's eye?"

"Lots of stuff. Actually it is more of an observer's eye. It helps me when I'm on a stakeout or when I play pool," he said with a wink. "I've designed the interiors of my brothers' homes. I'm also a partner in a small landscape design firm. Nothing too exciting, but I enjoy it and it augments my income. I like to dabble in lots of stuff, it keeps me off the streets."

"That settles it, you are never going to be welcome inside my apartment."

He looked devastated.

"I mean I live in a hovel. A college kid with five-hundred bucks can do better at Ikea or Target than I've done."

"Do you like it? If you like it that's all that's important."

"Not especially, I just kind of put up with it," I said with a sigh. "I gave up on it quite a while ago."

"If you want me to help you re-organize stuff or help you get some new things so you do actually like it, I'd love to help."

"I can't afford your fees," I said.

"You might be able to afford me," he said. When he smiled like that, his dimples were absolutely adorable. "I can make sure you get the sweat equity discount. And believe me, I'll make you sweat."

Oh boy.

"You certainly seem to be a man of action. So tell me, how did you get my internet connection set up so quickly?"

"If you need to buy things or get something done, I'm your man. I tend to network all the time and I trade my services in exchange for favors and discounts. A friend of mine is the manager at the cable company; he owed me a favor."

"Sounds like you're the man with the connections."

"You could say that."

We ate a little more and traded delicate bites from each other's plates. Talk slowed significantly during the importance of eating.

Over dessert he asked, "Can I make a confession?"

"What's on your mind?"

"I'm really glad that Ranger messed up with you."

"Why? Ranger's a friend."

"We've all thought he wanted more with you, but he's never taken the extra step. You've been hanging back for a long time for something that might never happen."

"You're right, I did. Like I told him recently, I'm ready for something more with someone. Ranger didn't seem pleased, but it _is_ my life to live and I need to make myself happy."

"Can I make another confession?"

I nodded.

"I've had a crush on you for a couple of years. You'd never seen me as anything other than a friend and I was content with that until May. In May when Ranger hurt you, I realized I'd developed feelings for you beyond a schoolboy crush."

Wow. I had no idea.

"I know you never even considered me a possibility, I wasn't even on your radar screen. When he hurt you, I really wanted to be able to support you while you were down. Later we had a few chances to be together and I realized how deep my feelings could grow if I let them; I chickened out and pulled back. I didn't want to lose my once in a lifetime opportunity, so I went back to friendship and the cloak of anonymity provided by the internet."

"Thank you," I said. I placed a very quiet kiss on his lips. More than that would have felt very out of place. "Your friendship has meant the world to me. Can I tell you a secret?"

"Shoot."

"I always thought you were cute and frankly I've been mesmerized by you since you went to pick up your grandfather at that motel. I couldn't shake the vision of you in those shorts for days. You have the most adorable knees."

"I should have found an excuse to wear shorts around you earlier."

He was blushing. It's just too cute to see a tough man blush.

"Plus, I loved that your grandfather wasn't dissimilar from my grandmother. Not that they'll ever be a couple, but you'd be able to understand my family," I said. "The few times we hung out, I really wanted there to be more. For the record it's more than a hormone or a chemistry thing, but there's that, too. You're comfortable and I really do like you, a lot."

He beamed and he looked visibly relieved.

"Could you see the potential for more?" he asked.

I thought about it. He liked me and maybe felt more. He didn't have a lot of secrets. His own family didn't seem too different from my own. He had real emotion and showed support. He thought that the foundation of a relationship should be friendship and not just chemistry. I'd even fallen into a kind of dependence on him, at least on e-mail. I'd told him things without concern for rumor mongering or chastisement. In a lot of ways, we had a foundation for something beyond friendship.

"Yes." It was quiet but resolute. "Yes, I can see the potential for more, much more. But first you have to tell me about the whole Café Ole thing. Remember you promised."

"I like coffee, a lot. When I was in high school, I worked at one of those designer coffee shops and got hooked on a chocolate coffee concoction; they called it Café Ole. Your love of chocolates is as legendary as my love of coffee. Besides, I didn't think you'd make the connection."

"Who else at the office knew it was you?" I asked.

"Tank knew from the beginning; I had to let him know in the event you figured a stalker might be after you again. He thought I was an idiot not to be up front with you. He also ran interference with Ranger a couple of times. He was in my corner when I told Ranger he couldn't hold you back anymore; that he needed to take action or step back."

"I owe you and Tank some serious thanks."

"Tank's a good man. He cares a lot about you, sees you like a sister. My thoughts aren't so pure about you."

"We may just have to explore some of those thoughts," I said with a smile.

"I've been taking this slowly for months; my body wants to be anything but slow with you," he said.

Did he really expect me to go to bed with him after one spectacular date?

"I didn't know it was you. I'd hoped, but I had no real idea and no way to confirm it," I said.

In many ways I'd given up hope it might have been Binky after the comment about not feeling a tingle, but they were resurrected the night of our distraction.

"In the event something does happen between us, how do you feel you about commitment, monogamy?"

"I'm not looking to get married anytime soon, Steph," he started.

"Good because neither am I. I asked about commitment and monogamy. I don't share and I don't cheat."

"I'm into monogamy, baby, believe me. If you can accept monogamy as a commitment, I'm very ready to commit. For the record, I don't cheat either."

The captain indicated that the restaurant had closed and we needed to leave. I was disappointed because the evening was drawing to a close.

While we waited for the valet, I realized I'd never given Binky the little box I'd brought with me.

"I feel sort of silly, but I wanted to give you a little something," I said.

He graciously accepted the box and asked, "May I open it?"

"Please."

"You knew it was me?" he asked as he opened the box of designer hot chocolate mix and a gift certificate to the ice skating rink. His face could have lit half of the block.

His mouth covered mine and in a sweet, reassuring kiss. I gingerly sought out more of the delicate flavor that was uniquely Binky. His hands moved gently over my back, pulling me closer, fitting my curves into the hard lines of his body, supporting me while my head was spinning.

"I wasn't certain, but I'd hoped it was you," I said after I caught my breath. "The gift is a little selfish because if we ever go skating again, I'd rather not drink the stuff from the machine. The afternoon skating was one of the best times I had in a long time."

"It was for me, too. Thank you," he said as he brought my hand to his mouth. The tenderness and restraint of the gesture was deeply moving and unexpected. The brush of his lips below my knuckles, innocent, but the energy between us was palpable and building.

We drove back to Trenton holding hands and Binky said, "It's a long drive back. Why don't you just rest your eyes?"

"But," I started.

"I don't need a lot of sleep, I'll be fine."

The next thing I was aware of was the car coming to a stop in my parking lot.

"Will you let me walk you up?" he asked. "I promise not to make any disparaging comments about your decorating."

"Promise?"

"Promise," he said, "and I'll even seal it with a kiss."

He sealed the deal quite well actually and several minutes later we entered my apartment.

I unlocked the door and said, "I know you've seen it before, but that was before I knew about your other talents. You can make suggestions, but remember you are dealing someone with a tight budget."

He walked in first and scanned the apartment for renegade terrorists and found none. I walked in behind him and said, "Well?"

"Do you mind if we move furniture and maybe rehang pictures?"

"If you are willing, I'll do pretty much whatever you want."

"Sounds like a good offer to me," he said eyes dancing. "Hey, will they let you paint?"

"I can ask. Will that make a big difference?"

"Sure, and it's quick, cheap and easy. If you want to do more elaborate stuff later, we can, but paint is always a great place to start."

"I tend to get more paint on me than on the walls," I admitted.

"I'll just have to stick around for the clean up then won't I?"

"A very intriguing proposition."

"I'm very precise when I clean up; you might think of me as a master of cleaning. You can't be too thorough."

"Looks like I'll get to watch the master in action. I think we have a deal."

I put my hand out to shake his and he used it to draw me into his body. He started a kiss that was a slow burn, it was excruciating in its thoroughness combined with the heat. When his breathing became ragged, he broke the kiss and rested his forehead against mine.

The next kiss was completely uninhibited and unapologetic. Binky explored my mouth as though he knew he was welcomed, as though he knew just how to please me. Or was it the other way around? We took turns leading and following in the hypnotic tango of the kiss, complete with dips and spins. If at all possible, this kiss could have melted our clothes off of our bodies and simultaneously caused the entire building to go up in flames.

When the kiss finally ended, he whispered in my ear, "I need you to know I've got no hidden agendas or ulterior motives. Where you are concerned I want what's best for you. I've really got nothing but time on my hands."

Oh boy.

A/N: I fell in love with Binky a while ago, I hope you all enjoyed, even just a little.

The muse loves all the Merry Men, but fell for Binky when he learned how Binky got his name. The muse insisted and so I obeyed.

Remember, there are two, count them two (2), more endings to go. Alf.


	31. Alternate Ending B

The standard disclaimers and thanks go out yet again.

A day without Betas is like a day without enough sunshine. Thank you ladies.

**Nothing But Time On My Hands  
Alternate Ending – B  
by Alfonsina**

I my eyes followed the hand, up the arm to the face. It was Ram. Ram? What on earth?

"Blessed Samhain and Happy Halloween, Steph. Glad you came," Ram said with a kiss to my cheek before seating himself.

"Thank you for inviting me," I said smiling at him. He really was Woody's Evan. I was relieved my companion was someone I knew and liked.

"I only acknowledge two holidays a year and it's been quite a while since I've actually honored either of them properly. It makes it that much sweeter for me that you came tonight."

"Which two holidays?"

"Beltane and Samhain; honoring the fertility of the crops and the abundance of the harvest. It is sort of the pagan equivalent of being a Christmas-Easter Christian."

Oh. Oh boy. Those were the two holidays where the Great Rite, sex, played a crucial role. I was thinking Thanksgiving and New Year's; I mean everybody eats turkey, don't they? Maybe this is a good time to panic.

"Steph, you can relax, I promise not to take advantage of the holiday's traditions with you."

I didn't want to admit it, but while I was relieved I was also a little disappointed. I'd had no intentions, necessarily, of having sex tonight not knowing who my dinner partner was to be, but I was open for negotiations; maybe.

"I didn't realize you were wiccan," I said.

"You didn't really look at the necklace you wore on that distraction with me, did you?"

"I liked the shape of it and it exuded an amazing energy, but I don't put a lot of religious connotations on objects when I look at them. A lot of people wear crosses or rosaries and don't have any religious affiliation of any kind."

Had he been dropping a hint that night?

"That may be true, but most people won't wear a pentagram unless they are in craft due to the stigma that can be attached. I really thought you knew. You aren't craft are you?"

I'd heard the word around the store enough to know that craft was slang for witchcraft.

"No I'm not. I had suspicions you were, but I wasn't positive," I said in all honesty. "People from all walks of life tend to shop at Ronny's store. I just figured you liked some of his oils and things. You know, a change of pace from Hoppes number nine cleaning fluid."

"Does it bother you?"

"No. I've done some reading since I started working at the store. It looks like there are a lot of parallels, mostly that if you do harm to someone, there are consequences; the Golden Rule seems to be universal. Oh and a lot of the holidays match up pretty closely. Does it bother you that I'm not?"

"No. My ex-wife isn't pagan. My son is being raised to respect all religions. He has an open mind, and we aren't pressuring him to go in any specific direction. He's looked at both Christianity and Wicca and said both are pretty substantial commitments. Done properly they are."

Good, if something happens down the road, he isn't looking for a conversion of any kind, just acceptance.

"It's kind of like housework," I said smiling. I don't do either housework or religion properly and I'm just fine with it.

He returned the smile. "I used to do both with a fervor, now not so much. Now the house is clean enough to be presentable and I keep religion mostly in my heart."

Someone poured us each a glass of wine, I have no idea where it came from. It was wonderful, the kind of thing you could thoroughly enjoy even if you didn't know beans about wine.

"Will you tell me why you sent the flowers initially?" I asked after taking my initial sip.

"You've done a lot of good for all of the guys at the office, especially Woody. I wanted you to know, from all of us, that you were loved and accepted just as you are."

"It meant the world that day and got me out of a deep funk. Thank you again."

"You are most welcome, m'lady," he said. "Glad they did the trick. For the record, anything you ever want to talk about, any time, just let me know. I'll always be here for you, no matter what."

He really did want to be a stable influence on my life; how sweet.

"Why did you keep up with the e-mails and things after my wounds had pretty much been healed?"

"Easy, I don't have a lot of friends outside of work. I have no problem getting the attention of women." No kidding. He was built like a brick shit house and his smile could be a toothpaste ad. "But when they find out about what I do for a living or my hobbies, they're pretty much out the door."

"Why? You're an incredibly nice guy, not to mention that you're also warm and genuine."

"A lot of women fear the firearms aspect of my life. They think the gunsafe will unlock itself in the middle of the night, one of the weapons will automatically load and go on a rampage. You know better than that, right?" he asked.

"I admit when I started bounty hunting, I was terrified at the prospect of ever owning a gun much less using it."

"Now?"

"I'm definitely not terrified, but still not in love with weapons either."

"I can live with that. Do you feel more comfortable, more competent than you did?"

"Definitely."

"Then it's all been worth it. In my personal life I'm flexible about religious issues in relationships, but I can't be flexible about firearm safety. There's too much at risk if they aren't respected and I have too many around."

"Is that why you've been such a hard ass?" I was smiling when I asked.

"Partly it was out of selfishness, both professional and personal. As the designated trainer, if anything ever happened to you I'd be out the door."

"And personally?" I couldn't help myself from asking.

"I would have been devastated if something happened to you that training could have prevented. Like I said, I like you too well to let you take risks with your safety."

It was time to change subjects and I was searching for something, anything. "Are you and Woody close?"

"He's one of my best friends, we've been through a lot together. Woody's a good man."

A plate was put in front of me.

"Did we order? I don't remember seeing a menu."

"Ella's son works here. I asked for her help; she designed the menu with me."

"Ella had a hand in this?"

"I told her I wanted to do something special for my best student. She might have guessed more on her own though," he said.

So that's it then, I'm just the best student. Well, I can live with that.

Before I could ask or say anything he said, "I'd love it to be more than that, but I know you're wary and this is all coming out of left field. You were probably expecting Ranger."

Actually I was expecting Ranger, but in my heart of hearts knew it wasn't and wouldn't have been. Ranger would have been more straight forward and wouldn't have taken the back roads.

"I'm glad it was you and I'd hoped it was you. I enjoy your company and I have a good time when we are together," I said, "that is when you aren't having me sweep up empty brass."

He took my hand and lightly brushed his thumb over my knuckles. It set off a lot of little tingles all through my body.

"Several months ago, Woody and Morgan tried to start a little coven. He wanted me to join. He said there was a nice little brunette who was open minded but not actually part of the community. He told me that if I joined, she might join. Was that you?"

"Sounds like Woody was trying to be a matchmaker. He told me someone named 'Evan' would be disappointed I didn't want to do a ritual with the group."

"I didn't know it was you. I would have encouraged you to join us at least once, if I'd known."

I really had passed up a night of naked activity with Ram. There was no time for 'if only' and it was definitely time to change the subject.

"Which do you prefer Ram or Evan?"

"Evan for personal. Ram at work."

"Kind of like a double life?"

"No. I was Ram in the military and it is faster for the guys to use than Ramsey. Nobody who knows me outside of work uses Ram."

"Which do you want me to use?"

"I'd prefer Evan, but use whichever makes you happy."

"Will you explain the whole Café Ole thing?"

"Sure. It's kind of dumb, really."

"Try me."

"You haven't really watched around the office have you?" I shook my head. "When I'm thinking about things I tend to forget stuff like pens, papers, cups of coffee. You can usually tell where I've been in the office by the trail of coffee cups."

"Yeah, but Café Ole?"

"The French for cream in coffee is vafé au lait, but I always hated spelling anything in French, too many letters for too few sounds. They sound about the same and it was basically a tribute to my caffeine habit."

"If I tell you something sort of strange, will you hold it against me?"

"Probably not. No, I promise. I won't hold anything against you."

"Ever since that day when you came into the store to buy whatever it was in that package, I've had some really strange dreams."

"Want me to help interpret them?"

"Maybe, but they're really more like feelings. For the longest time, an e-mail would arrive in the middle of the night and I could feel someone shaking my shoulder until I got up and checked the computer. And then later it's more like I haven't felt like I was necessarily alone in bed but no one else is physically there," I said. I paused and thought before I said, "You haven't been breaking in, have you?"

"Of course not, you'd probably shoot me," he said winking. I loved that wink, he didn't use it much but I thought it was adorable. "In the middle of the night when I'd send you an e-mail, I wanted you to check it when you woke up. I didn't mean for you to start actually waking up and checking them then."

I looked at him blankly.

"I'd been trying to make a spiritual or psychic connection with you and must have done it if you were waking up when I'd send e-mails. There was one night I heard your voice sounding kind of cranky telling me just to come to bed, and from that night, I've felt myself there in my dreams; our dreams. I didn't think you'd feel me in bed with you."

"It felt kind of strange, but it was nice. You seem to like to cuddle."

"Amongst other things." His smile was wicked and promised any number of other things.

We ate quietly for a while, it was nice and companionable. It felt like this was normal for us, natural even.

"Were you hoping to start a relationship with me?"

"Not initially. I thought friendship was more than adequate; I'm abysmal in dating situations so I haven't done it in quite a while. Things usually never go beyond a few dates." He paused and looked at me thoughtfully, "When we had dinner that night and then shopped afterwards, it was the most comfortable I'd been with a woman in a very long time. I hadn't realized just how much I'd missed that and wanted it; craved it even."

Wow.

"Anyway, when the comment about 'dress up' was made that night, it gave me a idea. You give of yourself and your time without expectation of any kind. I wanted for you to be able to receive something extraordinary without the concern for an exchange. I want you to learn to receive because I enjoy giving."

"The clothes. Oh God, I haven't said thank you yet. I'm so sorry. I haven't felt so incredible in a piece of clothing in a very long time. Thank you."

"I wasn't fishing for a compliment, Stephanie. I figured if you didn't like anything, you'd have come in something of your own or you would have sent the shopper out to find something else. I will admit, I'm flattered with the dress you chose, it is my favorite. You look sensational, no matter what you wear. I happen to like you best with a gunbelt around your waist and a .45 in your hand, but I'm strange that way."

I felt a little awkward with the exchange. I'm not used to getting compliments very often.

"Can I tell you something?" he asked.

"Of course, anything. You know that."

"I've been dying to kiss you again since the distraction a month ago. Will you let me? I haven't been able to get it off of my mind."

"Please."

He brushed his lips over mine oh so very slowly. It was like his lips were trying to learn mine. I longed to deepen this kiss and I could tell he sensed it too. While this kiss was incredibly gentle and delicious, it was very reserved.

He pulled back and looked at me and said, "If I kissed you the way I want to, they'd ask us to leave."

He kissed me again, with less reserve and with just enough tongue and tingle to start a healthy smolder. It was actually a _very_ healthy smolder and given time and a little care, it could easily have lead to a forest fire

"I also want you to know that I've developed feelings for you," he said as he pulled back. "I'm not sure how deep they are, but I want you to know."

"I don't feel so dumb developing feelings for a guy that I've only known on e-mail then. I don't know how strong they are either, but I think we have a definite foundation for friendship."

"More."

"More." I agreed. How much more, I was uncertain. "Who else knew? You have to have told Tank you were doing this and he probably said something to Ranger."

"I told Tank and Woody up front. I wanted Woody's approval to use the store as a delivery point and Tank to know that there was no investigation needed. I let them both know in advance about deliveries and things, until I got to the flowers the second time."

"How did Ranger take it?"

"Ranger didn't think some unknown guy could hold your attention. He underestimates the need people have to make connections to others. Not everyone wants to be a lone wolf, some of us like being part of a pack."

I nodded, I can do alone for a while, but on balance I like to have some company.

"Is that why you were sent on a mission with Binky and the other guys?"

"Partially. He figured that if you didn't hear from me for an extended period of time, things with you two would go back to the way they had been."

"How had they been?" I wanted his take on the relationship.

"In a holding pattern. He was holding out for you to give in to your hormones and you were holding out for a commitment. Pretty much you have a stalemate."

"I'm tired of the stalemate situation," I said. "In reality, it needs to end; I guess in many ways it has. I just haven't admitted it to myself. I want to move forward in my life and needed a reason to."

"How firm are you about needing a commitment?" he asked.

"Pretty firm. I've done the back and forth thing. Even though I'm not a practicing Catholic, there is tremendous guilt about sex outside of a commitment." I took a bite of something on my plate while I composed my thoughts. "Besides, meaningless sex is like potato chips. Enjoyable at the time and potentially addictive, but not consequence free. At least I have consequences and so then it's no longer meaningless," I said.

"I agree. It might be meaningless to one party, but seldom to both. It's better if there is a commitment of some kind in place. I happen to like commitment and I require monogamy."

"Sounds like we're on the same page."

I didn't want to ask about kids, joint bank accounts or mortgages, but some major hurdles had just been cleared.

"You've thought a lot about this, haven't you?" he asked.

"I haven't slept a lot since May and sleep is my favorite sport," I said. "You haven't been far from my mind at all, especially since that shopping trip. I've come to depend on you in more ways than I'd realized."

The captain came over and whispered something to Ram.

"It's closing time. We need to vacate so they can close."

We went to the front so I could retrieve my wrap and my clutch. Ram immediately noticed the purse.

"Galco?" he asked.

"Of course. E-bay not a gun store," I told him.

"I'm very proud of you. You took a calculated risk and you stacked the deck in your own favor."

"You probably have on a belly band, don't you?"

"Ankle holster. You are learning, I am indeed impressed."

We drove back to Trenton listening to something instrumental on the radio. He was right, you can't sing-a-long and some of it is pretty soothing.

Before we got all the way back to my apartment I had to ask, "Do you feel you got short changed tonight?"

"Now why would ever you ask that?" he asked picking up my hand and pressing it to his lips.

"You got all dressed up, and you look incredible by the way, took me some place I've never even imagined for dinner and you aren't going to complete the Great Rite tonight."

When I'd realized Evan and Ram were one in the same, I figured he might be expecting sex, if for no other reasons than religious ones.

"I fulfilled the Great Rite, Steph," he said quietly.

I looked at him. He'd had sex before he met me for the night? What about the talk about more and a commitment in the future?

"You know the Great Rite is all about the woman, Stephanie. Even though I'd love to be with you sexually, you aren't ready for that with me right now and I'm not sure I'm ready for you either."

According to the dampness between my legs, he was very wrong. I could be ready in fairly short order.

"I'm at a stage in my life where I want to make love with a woman, not just have sex with her. It is so much better when it's making love. I respect us both enough to wait."

"Is kissing out?" I had to ask because I was already craving more of those succulent kisses and the feelings he ignited in me.

"Absolutely kissing is in, and would very much be anticipated. The fact is, I've been celibate for a while now and I want the next experience to be meaningful."

He is _so_ not the typical male. The typical man in my life would have made sure he had plenty of condoms and would try to talk me into something just to satisfy his libido.

"Getting back to your question, I've actually honored the Great Rite tonight quite nicely. I've honored you as a woman: your body, your mind and your spirit. The physical joining is just a different way to honor a woman.

"Thank you."

He picked up my hand and kissed the back of it. We held hands the rest of the way to Trenton.

He walked me back into my apartment and said, "This is where I kiss you goodnight. Thank you again, Stephanie."

He then proceeded to kiss me the way he'd wanted to in the restaurant. It was barely contained and hands went practically everywhere; it wasn't frantic but it was incredibly thorough. The kiss proved to have a hypnotic quality that I'd never before encountered. We clung to each other for several long moments after the kiss ended, getting our reserve back.

He was about to leave when I realized I still had the little box in my hand. I gave it to him.

"You might think it's a bit cliché."

He opened it and his face lit up. In the box was a keyring that had a .44 magnum shell attached.

He said, "You knew it was me?"

"I'd hoped that it might have been, but I wasn't certain. I was at Sunny's buying some new cuffs when I saw it. I thought you'd get a kick out of it."

"It's perfect. Thank you."

He kissed me again. His eagerness surprised me when the tip of his tongue danced past the seam of my lips. I matched him, parting my lips for the slow thrust of his kiss. The languid back and forth rhythm reminded me of skin rubbing over skin and tangled sheets.

Desire melted me, made me ready for more – much more. I wanted him to forget himself, I wanted to explore every part of his body. I wanted to forget my inhibitions until he spoke and brought me back into my reality.

"You will make me forget myself and go back on my word," he said roughly.

"I want you to," I said quietly.

"Soon, if it is right for both of us, OK?"

I nodded. I didn't want him to leave but I knew he wasn't going to stay. I looked for something to say.

"Someday will you let me read your palm?" I was reaching and I knew it, I already knew what I needed to know and more.

"I'd rather have you find out on your own," he said. "But probably, if we are on a stakeout and we have nothing but time on our hands."

He kissed me on the temple on his way out the door and said, "It was one of the best Samhains of my life. Blessed be, Stephanie."

"Goodnight Evan," I said as I closed the door.

It looked like it would be a great new year.

A/N:The muse wouldn't let me rest once I found out who 'Evan' was so many chapters ago. The muse insisted upon an ending for Ram, I don't disagree.

There is one ending to go. It will be a roller coaster ride. Alf


	32. Alternate Ending C

Disclaimer: The standards are the same as before, yada yada yada.

Warnings: Emotional roller coaster; erotica in the bottom 2/3 of chapter. I attempted to write out the 'smut' but since it is making love and was a key emotional component, I couldn't do it, it wasn't nearly the same.

Emotion and misdirection are key elements in this story, the misdirection will be explained as the chapter progresses.

I would like to thank everyone who supported this endeavor from the beginning; it wouldn't have been the same without you. Bluzkat, for offering tips about the East and adding humor where possible. CS Katie, you encouraged me to follow my own muse and let him out to play, I have and will be better in future. Deb B, you listened to constant whining and 'oh brothering' to no end – thank you for not kicking me where it showed. Deb WSF, editor beyond my wildest dreams – finder of weak spots – and on whose authority much has rested. Melody, you took time out to review and re-review when you didn't need to, especially this chapter. Tiina, you let me realize that I wasn't nuts and gave me the courage to put this baby to bed.

With no furhter ado:

**Nothing But Time On My Hands  
Final Chapter  
by Alfonsina**

"Happy Halloween, Babe," Ranger said looking a little sheepish dropping a kiss on my temple. "I'm so glad you took a chance and came."

I had been on pins and needles for over a week. I'd done this on faith, taken a blind leap and was now feeling exposed and foolish. Plus I was far from home with no way to get back if I found myself needing to leave. My face went up in flames and my eyes flooded.

"I think I should probably go," I said scooting my chair away from the table.

"Babe."

"No, I shouldn't stay. This has all been a game to you and I don't want to play games. I don't enjoy them, especially when I don't know the rules."

"Please, Babe?"

"I'll return the computer and make sure that the cable and phone are disconnected on Monday so you can have credit to your account. I don't think you can get the money back on the dress or shoes, but maybe they can do something for you at the store," I said. "If not, a charity thrift store would love to give you a tax write off for the outfit."

"Babe," he whispered.

"Was this just another way for you to prove that I am naïve and fool? It's been an expensive lesson for both of us, but you've proven your point," I said quietly as I stood.

I was getting ready to walk out the door, but hadn't been paying attention when I'd been guided to the table, I'd probably wind up lost and in the ladies' room until the cleaners came at 2:00 in the morning. Plus I had no idea how I was going to get home this late on a Friday night, but I was going to do it with my dignity and self-esteem in place. I also knew I wasn't going to call "Hank" or whoever the hell he was, yet another part of the damn game.

"Will you at least let me explain?" he asked not looking at me.

"Sure. Why not? But no lectures, on anything, or I am gone." I said as I dug the hankie out of my purse and sank back into my chair.

He summoned the sommelier and ordered a bottle of Verve Cliquot Reserve 2006. At least one of us knew what he was ordering.

He put his hand on mine and said, "Babe."

"You do better than that in e-mail Ranger. I am assuming it has been you sending those messages. If you've been getting one of the guys to write this stuff for you, I don't ever want to talk to you or hear from you ever again. Why did you do it? Why the charade?"

"You were so angry at me in May I didn't think you would ever speak to me voluntarily again," he said quietly. "I wanted to make sure you knew somebody cared, that you were important, knew you were hurting. I also knew that you'd assume it was a stalker if things showed up at your apartment. I didn't think that you would accept anything from me at that point, not words, not a card and not my company. I was surprised and pleased that you sent the initial thank you note. I had hoped, but hadn't expected that you would."

I continued to glare, but was softening just a little.

"You'd been humiliated because I over-reacted, was presumptuous and an overall ass. I'd been trying to find a way to begin a relationship with you for quite a while," he said. "I didn't know if you would throw cold water in my face if I made a sincere effort, so I left things status quo."

Well OK. But why the hell couldn't he tell me all this months ago? He was always using the phrase 'man up' when one of the guys made a mistake, seemed he wasn't able to do what he demanded of others.

He couldn't look at me at this point, but I could've sworn I heard him whisper, "I was afraid."

He took a sip from the goblet before him and took a deep breath.

"I needed to make sure you got the deliveries yourself, it was important to me," he said.

"That's why all the broken appointments?"

"I wanted to make sure you got whatever I sent and I know your work ethic. I knew you'd never stand up an appointment, but you might not accept something I would send or try to give you if you knew the actual source."

"I can be a little stubborn," I said. "You didn't have cameras or anything in the store, did you?" If I ever found out there was footage of my reactions, he was going to be a dead man. I'd make sure of it.

"I liked knowing that I could make you smile; I needed that. So I kept doing what was working," he said. "Babe, about the cameras, Woody put in the security system with Hector a while ago. Yeah, there were cameras but they are strictly used for after hours."

"You had the upper hand the entire time."

"Not really. I hoped that you would develop a real friendship with the guy on e-mail. I was afraid one day I would go too far and you'd vanish and I would be cut out completely."

"So why the ground rules of 'no details' and 'nothing specific'?"

"My daughter likes the movie You've Got Mail a little too much. I figured it gave them a chance to talk without feeling exposed; it might work for you and me. It gave us both some freedom." He paused and just looked at me saying nothing. Out from nowhere he asked, "Honestly Babe, your mom had to cut your panties off before prom?"

"This is not about that, but yes she did," I said.

"Did your date ever find out?" he asked.

"No," I said. I needed to keep a little control of the conversation, I wasn't going to discuss my ancient history with him. "You wanted me to have freedom to contact you pretty much anytime I wanted to though, didn't you?"

"Actually, I was getting desperate to talk to you, really talk. When you were willing to accept the computer, I thought it was a good opening; a real chance."

Oh. "Is that why you were so cranky when I wanted to get rid of it, give it away?"

"I saw it as a rejection," he said. "You've been rejecting my overtures for months."

"Because there's been nothing behind them," I said. "You were dropping little verbal bombs to see what I would do or say. It felt like another game that would just lead to more pain and I wasn't up for that. I'm still not up for it; not from you, not from anybody."

"I didn't know how to make you an offer you would see as real; how to approach you without seeming the opportunist. But if you had ever said yes, to anything, there would have been no going back for either of us," he said quietly. "About the light flirting, I enjoyed off balancing you. It was immature and I shouldn't have done it, but you are so easy to tease."

I had no idea what to say and thought waiting him out might be the overall best course of action.

"I wanted more, needed more with you but I didn't know how to go about changing things so you'd realize just how serious I was. I thought things might have changed a little the night we watched the full moon at the lake. I've never taken anyone with me to watch the moon; for me it's incredibly private, it's as close to prayer as I come. Then I all but destroyed everything I had with you in May due to my own jealousy."

I took his hand and squeezed it and gave him a small smile.

I was feeling pretty badly because he'd wanted to have a nice evening with me and I kept killing the mood. I decided to try to steer the conversation away from the heavy stuff for just a little bit.

"Why the various gift certificates, especially the one for all the bath stuff and why the recommendations?" I asked.

"I used the moonlight path as a hint. I hoped you would think about the night I took you to watch the full moon at the lake. To me, you are always beautiful, but you are radiant in the moonlight," he said as he picked up my hand to kiss it. "And so you know, I think you are much prettier than 'average with blue eyes', though I do love your eyes. I can get lost just looking into your eyes. There really are no words to describe your beauty that do you justice."

That was probably one of the nicest things anyone had ever said to me. His eyes were searching mine, and I wasn't really sure what he was looking for. Whatever it was he wanted to see must have been there because he leaned in and looked like he wanted to kiss me, and I wanted to be kissed. It was very soft and gentle, but held a lot of emotion.

Was it getting warm in here or was it just me? Definitely now we needed to go somewhere else conversationally. If we didn't I might kiss him so hard I got us removed from the restaurant.

"I can't thank you enough for sending the kids and me to the museum. Had I known it was something you might like, I would've invited you," I said.

"You needed time with them and you needed time not to have anyone else try to get inside your head. Ok, not too far inside your head."

From somewhere plates arrived and were placed on the table. I didn't remember Ranger ever ordering and I knew I hadn't. I tried to raise my eyebrow but couldn't. He must've noticed the perplexed look on my face.

"Dinner choices have already been made. This is what is called a tasting menu, just a little of everything that's good tonight," he said.

Fine, that's one series of decisions I won't need to make.

Curiosity got the better of me so I finally just said, "So when did things really start to change for you? About me I mean."

"I got hope, real hope, when you sent the e-mail about your best friend. Not because of what you said, but because you were so honest. You talked about how sex with me wouldn't mean anything to me. About how much it would hurt to lose our friendship. I hoped that if you didn't want to lose the friendship there might be a possibility down the road for more, if I was incredibly lucky," he said. "All I ever seem to do is hurt you and that's the last thing I ever want to do."

I took a sip of a wine that had somehow found its way in front of me. I decided to wait it out because it looked like it was going to be painful and if I said anything I'd lose whatever I might have gained by coming tonight.

One very-vulnerable-man-sitting-next-to-me, two very-vulnerable-man-sitting-next-to-me, three … Seventy-three very-vulnerable-man-sitting-next-to-me …

"Did you know that was the only time I've ever actually made love to a woman?" His voice so soft I could scarcely hear it. "And I was a blundering idiot who didn't know what to do after it was over because I'd never done that before."

No way. This was Ranger. Women dropped things and became incapable of speech when he smiled. No way was that night beginner's luck.

"That's not what I mean," he said with a smile. "Everyone who came before was just sex; there's a big difference between sex and making love. Before you, it meant nothing but a good time. Babe, before I knew you, I used to make Lester look like a monk."

"Wow." That was saying something.

"We didn't have a lot when I was a kid. I knew I wanted a better life when I grew up, but a lot of what I wanted just wasn't real. The plastic Barbie doll looking women were a fun in the beginning, and with enough money they would easily become available, but they weren't quality."

So what does this mean to me?

"Babe, I've known you were quality from the first time I saw you in the diner," he said.

I was working on the whole patience thing, just to see where it might lead, but my patience was wearing thin. I wanted him to get to the point.

"And that means exactly what?" I asked when I couldn't wait any longer.

"It means that I didn't have experience talking to women who had brains who wanted more than just some time in the sack after dinner out. It means I didn't know how to talk to you. I had to bring you down to my level, keep you off balanced so you wouldn't know how intimidated I was."

I decided to keep my mouth shut; it was getting me quite a bit of information this evening, even though it was painful for both of us.

"Don't get me wrong, Babe. I've always wanted you, and the more I knew you the more I wanted of you. But I wasn't ready for you for a long time."

Oh God.

"Over time, you became necessary for me," he said.

"What does that mean?" I wanted that comment translated, it made no sense to me on its own.

"You became like air for me. I didn't have to be with you, but I needed to know you were safe and well. When you haven't been, it's all but killed me. I don't think I would survive if something dire happened to you."

"Do you expect me to change…" I started.

"No, but I'm glad that you've become more careful. It seems that you haven't been in as many tussles since you started wearing the amber. Working with Ram you've developed a self-confidence unlike anything you've shown before. I should give both of them a raise."

"Why were you so ugly back in May about Beltane? Woody hadn't planned a big seduction or anything like that, besides he met his soulmate that day."

"I knew if you went with him and you completed the rite with him, I'd lose you forever. Woody plays for keeps, so do I. And Woody doesn't share. I'm done sharing," he said.

"I don't particularly like being shared."

"Good to know."

"Do you know why I left early with him that day?" I asked. I needed him to know and we'd never discussed it.

He shook his head slightly.

"He wasn't you. Part of me wanted to do it and needed the closeness. I had contemplated seducing him after he promised no bad morning after, but a mutual new beginning. It was a pretty tempting offer and one I'd given very careful consideration. But I knew I'd lose any hope of anything ever with you if I did. I wasn't ready for that hope to die. I knew if I allowed myself to be worshipped, I only wanted one man to do that, to share that; I wanted it to be with you," I said as quietly as I could.

"Have you ever forgiven me for that night so long ago?" he asked.

"There was nothing to forgive that night. That night was amazing, and something I'll treasure for the rest of my life," I said with a smile. He smiled back until I started talking again. "It was the next day that caused problems for me. That's taken quite a bit to work through, but overall, I'm past the emotional baggage from it. I won't ever let the next morning be like that again, my heart won't survive it."

"So noted," he said running his fingers up and down the stem on the wine glass.

"Why did you start sending all the flowers with their meanings?"

He'd opened the door earlier, it was only fair to see what was behind it.

"I wanted to peak your interest so you would want to meet me in person. Instead, I scared the life out of you. I'm sorry for scaring you like that," he said twirling the wine in his glass.

If I hadn't known better I would have thought that Ranger was fidgeting. I only fidget when I am nervous or bored; God, I hope he isn't bored.

"How long did Tank know?" I asked. "I'm assuming Tank knew."

"Tank knew from the beginning. I knew you would anticipate it was a stalker and not a secret admirer of some kind. I also knew you'd want to have Rangeman investigate and if I was gone you'd call Tank. So I brought Tank in up front so he'd know what was going on."

"What did Tank have to say about it?"

"Mostly that I was a chicken shit, but this might prevent you from walking out of my life forever," he said. "On balance he supported it."

"Were you ever going to tell me it was you?" I asked. "Or were we going to trade e-mails until we were in the old folks' home?"

"Do you remember that night in the bar when you freaked out about the cookies?"

I nodded.

"I was hoping you'd put off this meeting with 'him' and you would let me take you out instead. I wanted you to cancel this evening completely. I wanted to do something nice for you, kind of dressy casual where we could both let our hair down and be ourselves," he said. "Instead you decided to go forward and I had no opportunity to tell you it was me without making you think I'd been playing you."

"I hadn't fallen in love with 'him', if that's something you've been afraid of," I said. "But I liked the fact he would tell me about himself."

"I liked being able to tell you things," he said. "I told you things I hadn't thought about in years. It also made me think about how you perceived the things I said. You give me more credit than I am due. I was stunned when you didn't say I was both a coward and an asshole for hurting the one woman I'd ever loved. You had compassion for my inabilities. I didn't expect that."

It was time to change subjects again. He was getting deep and I hadn't really bargained for deep, emotional or sexy. I'd bargained for a nice dinner out with a friend; the rules kept changing, so I decided to change the conversation.

"I have forgotten my manners and haven't thanked you for the clothes," I said. "They are exquisite, thank you."

"You enhance them," he said. "You look lovelier tonight than almost any time I can remember."

The color rose in my cheeks again. He took my hand, kissed it and smiled.

"You don't look so bad yourself," I said. And he didn't look bad at all. The suit looked like it cost twice or more my monthly rent. The shirt couldn't have been more sharply pressed and the shoes had a high buff.

"So tell me," I said, "why did you choose Café Ole as a name?"

"Café au lait in French means coffee with cream or milk," he said.

I looked at him to go on. "And?"

"My mother drank a lot of coffee when we were growing up. She knew she had enough milk in her coffee when the coffee became the color of my skin," he said.

"But why Café Ole with the whole CO thing?" I asked.

"Babe, I didn't want you to think that Cal at the office was behind this," he said.

Oh. "Oh. Got it." It probably wouldn't have occurred to me for months that Café au lait would become C-A-L.

"I'll make Café Ole for you sometime; you'll like it, it's a nice coffee drink that's got chocolate in it."

Somehow during all of this we had continued to eat. I don't remember what was even on the table, just that periodically plates would be cleared and replaced. I remember glimpsing a dessert trolley, but don't even know if anything was selected from it. There was a magic spell was over the two of us and nothing else existed.

The captain was making noises indicating it was almost time to leave; they were going to close.

"We should probably be going," I said regretting the spell that had cocooned us was about to be broken.

"I don't want it to end," he said. "I don't want anything with you to end."

"They aren't going to let us stay the night here," I said with a sigh.

We eventually left the table and I was guided to the front of the restaurant and retrieved my wrap and my purse.

"I didn't think that was one of the purses I had chosen, Babe," he said.

"It's not," I said with a smile. "I found it on E-Bay not that long ago, it's got a holster in it."

He looked at me, speechless.

"What, you didn't think I'd go somewhere to meet a man I didn't know with no way to protect myself, did you?"

He wouldn't meet my eyes, but he had a small smile on his face.

"I've actually been paying attention Ranger. I may be trusting, but I am not a fool."

"I know you aren't a fool, I never thought you were. I just thought you were overly trusting," he said as he gave me another short kiss with just a hint of passion.

He handed something to the valet and we waited for his car to be brought around.

"Too bad we have to go back to our regular lives," I said with a sigh.

"We don't have to, at least not tonight," he said. "Would you?"

"Would I what?" I asked. I knew what I wanted him to ask me, but I was a little afraid to make any assumptions.

"Would you stay the night with me?"

"There won't be much of the night left by the time we make it back to Trenton," I said. I wanted him to need me as much as I needed him, but not just for one night.

The car arrived and the passenger door was opened for me. I got in and situated myself.

"We don't have to go to Trenton, Babe. I don't want to go to Trenton," he said. "Please say yes. Please?" was whispered over and over against my ear.

"I don't know. How do I know you won't disappear on me or be finished with me in the morning? I can't do it again," I whispered back.

He nuzzled my neck and said, "You can have all the control; all the power. You've always had the power. Tonight will be as much or as little as you want; whatever you need. Please, stay with me?" He squeezed my hand one more time.

I closed my eyes and said, "No bad morning after?"

"No, no bad morning after. Beautiful new horizons together, I promise."

"Yes," I barely breathed.

I don't know how long we drove or where we headed, I just knew I had committed to being with Ranger. I wasn't going to back out. I couldn't, even if it was just for one night.

The car came to a halt and someone opened my car door.

"Babe, we're here," he said. "Are you sure you want this? You can still change your mind."

I smiled in response and got out of the car. We were at the entrance of the Four Seasons Hotel in Philly. The lobby was gorgeous, very rich and opulent. It made me realize just how design challenged I am. One of these days I was going to have to get some decorating sense.

"Ranger?"

"It's alright, promise," he said he said in the kind of a voice people use to calm a nervous animal. "Will you do something for me?"

He's asking now?

"What?"

"Please call me by my name, Carlos. I ache to hear my name on your lips," he whispered.

"Yes Carlos," I whispered back.

We proceeded to the elevators, it was obvious to me he knew where we were going. He pushed the button to one of the floors; I had my body turned in to his. I had my eyes closed and was just breathing in his smell and absorbing his warmth. This was the beginning of something new for both of us and I think we both realized that.

We stepped out and walked down the hall. Ranger stopped in front of one of the doors, inserted a cardkey and opened it. Except it wasn't a room, it was a suite. It was very unlike any setting I would have pictured him in. His apartment was very tailored, very neutral, and oh so very male. This was overstuffed, lots of pillows and polished wood, feminine almost by comparison.

He took my wrap, my purse, the roses from the restaurant and the small box I'd been tinkering with, placed them on the coffee table and asked me to wait. He went into the bedroom and closed the door.

He was gone a lifetime.

I wandered the living room feeling like I had at the restaurant; kind of like Cinderella might have on her first day at the castle, a little afraid and nervous mixed with excitement. But I knew I wasn't Cinderella and this time would indeed be magical. My heart wanted the fairytale, but I was afraid to hope for the happily ever after.

I sat on each of the chairs and the sofa in the outer room trying to figure out which was the most comfortable. I even investigated the powder room, it was bigger than my bathroom at home; I couldn't imagine what the bathroom with the tub might actually be like.

He finally joined me on the sofa and kissed me. It was one of those kisses he was so good at where everything fell away and you waited for the orchestra music to start.

I said, "You do know what tonight is, don't you?"

"Halloween but we don't have on scary costumes," he said trying to keep the mood light. "And I promise no tricks, Babe."

"It is also another of Woody's religious holidays," I said kissing him unknotting his tie.

"Oh yeah?" he asked between long, slow kisses.

"Uh-huh. This one is called Samhain," I said, "the celebration of the new year."

"Very interesting," he murmured. Based on where his hands were I could tell he was interested in other things.

"Do you know what is so special about Samhain?" I panted.

He tried to kiss me instead of answer. I wouldn't kiss him back until he looked at me.

"It's a night where they honor the Great Rite," I said fumbling with the front of his shirt.

"Great Rite," he said as he went back to kissing my neck.

"You remember. The man worships the goddess in the woman he is with; spirit, mind and body."

I got the sleeves of his shirt unbuttoned.

"Worship the body of a goddess."

His fingers sought out the closure on my dress.

"Yeah," I said as I finally got the shirt untucked from his pants.

"Any particular form of worship I need to know about?" he asked as he began to unzip me.

"It is all about the goddess, and demonstrable ways to thank her for the bounty she has provided."

My breath was shallow and coming slowly.

"I can think of a few things that might work as worthy demonstrations," he breathed.

His lips moved down my neck and across my collarbones. His hands slipped my dress down my shoulders.

I don't remember standing or when he lifted me, but he carried me into the bedroom. I don't think I could have crossed the ten or so feet by myself.

The bedroom, I'm certain, looked beautiful under ordinary circumstances; this night there were candles lit on every surface and rose petals in a circle surrounding the bed. Soft music was playing in the background somewhere. It felt like it had all been orchestrated for seduction; I had Ranger I didn't need anything else.

He put me down and slid the dress off the rest of my body so slowly that it was its own form of torture. He wouldn't let me help him get any further undressed or even touch him initially.

He started kissing me again and he said in a rough voice, "It's all about the goddess I worship tonight and revere with pleasure, isn't it?"

I nodded very slowly.

"I've loved you for a very long time and I've been such a fool," he said as he unhooked my bra and lowered the straps.

I saw something in his face, it was like the mask was gone and he was here with me. All of him was here, not just the persona that he showed the world. As I saw his reservations had vanished, I realized mine disappeared, too.

"I can't remember a time when I wasn't in love with you, even just a little," I said. "It's like there's a magnetic pull and I can't resist anything about you."

He'd been so absorbed in unhooking my bra that he didn't seem to realize I was trying to undo the buckle on his belt.

"This is about you tonight. This is all for you tonight."

If I could have said something I would have, but his lips stopped me. His hands traveled down my back to my teenie, tiny panties.

"Very nice," he said. "But right now, lovely though they are on you, I think they would look so much better on the floor."

He lowered the panties and his fingers skimmed me _there_ as I stepped out of them.

"Babe?"

I looked him in the eye and was unable to form words, the power of speech was almost gone. I nodded.

"Brazilian?" he asked as he knelt before me.

I nodded.

"For me?"

I was finally able to form words, but I wasn't sure they would come out right. "No, hadn't planned this … you … I wanted the panties to be pretty and thought they would look nicer if I were bare," I stammered out. It was hard to think much less talk while he had his face pressed to my belly.

"Did it hurt?"

I was back to the wordless answers; I nodded.

"Will you let me kiss it better?" he asked while unbuckling my shoes.

I nodded again. I was having a hard time fathoming what he was doing to me. I mean, I knew what he was doing, but it was so much better than I remembered.

"Oh God," I said in a hoarse whisper when he touched that spot.

"Tonight I think it is 'oh Goddess'."

I found myself lifted onto the bed, but Ranger didn't join me. He liberated himself of the rest of his own clothing.

He kissed his way up my body starting at my feet. I found myself feeling grateful that not only had I had a pedicure done but my legs were waxed, everything felt so much _more_ somehow.

I wanted him to hurry to get to that part of me that was desperate for him to touch, but he was taking the scenic route. Not that having him place open kisses along my calves and thighs wasn't perfectly wonderful, but the ache inside me was growing stronger the closer he got. By the time he touched my center, first with his fingers and then with his tongue, I was beyond wet and in a very serious state.

"Please Carlos," I begged in a strangled whisper. "Please."

"Please?" he murmured as he went back to the slow, torturous, teasing and touching.

"Please!"

He took that moment to slip his fingers inside and suck on that tiny bundle of nerves at my apex. My body levitated off the bed as I shattered.

"Was that what you wanted?" he whispered.

"Yes," I breathed. He lowered his head to continue his special brand of torture, but I couldn't take any more, I needed something different. I needed him as deeply inside me as he could possibly go. I wanted to feel all of him at once, where there was no separating where he ended and I began.

"No," I said running my hands over his head. "Please?"

"No?"

"No. Please come inside, Carlos. I need you. Please?" The words felt like a low, slow chant. All I could say over and over again was, "Please. I need you. Please."

"Are you sure, Babe? I could worship you like this for hours, I want to do this for you for hours," he said trying to return to the exquisite pleasure he was so good at providing. "I love doing this for you, if you'll let me."

My breathing was shallow and coming with great difficulty. As wonderful as what he was doing was, it wasn't enough.

"It's all," I panted, "about me. Right?"

He looked at me and smiled.

"Oh, most definitely."

"Then please," I begged, "please, come inside. I need you inside of me, all of you. Please?"

He crawled up my body and slid slowly between my legs.

I gasped and his body stilled so I could get used to the size of him.

"You OK, Babe?" he asked.

"It's just been a long time."

"I'm so sorry to have hurt you," he said, "all the ways I've hurt you. Forgive me?"

"Always."

Slowly he began to rock his body with mine as we got used to feeling each other all over again. His slow and shallow thrusts went on forever. It was decadent and lush, nothing felt more complete. We improved on perfection when he increased his rhythm as our need grew, and then that was perfect. Every trust, every touch, every sound; they were all perfect, almost unbearably so.

He slipped a hand between us to drive me over the edge, he climaxed shortly after I came back to earth.

"Home," he mumbled into my hair. "Finally home."

I moved his hair out of his face, kissed him and said, "Home? What are you talking about?"

"You know the saying 'home is where the heart is'?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said. Didn't everyone know that phrase?

"_You_ are how I define home. You provide warmth, safety, acceptance and love. Wherever you are is home for me," he said looking me in the eye. "I love you. I'm _in love_ with you."

Oh God. I didn't know what to say and 'thank you' just didn't feel right, so I kissed him again. "I love you, more than you know," I said gazing into his brown eyes.

"Do you remember asking about the Batcave?" he asked.

I nodded. What did the Batcave have to do with anything?

"I told you the Batcave was home and it was forever," he said kissing me deeply. "Therefore if you are home," pause "and the Batcave is home," pause, "you, Babe, are the Batcave."

"Carlos, will you ever leave home again?" I asked solemnly.

"Not if I can help it," he said slowly shaking his head back and forth. "I never, ever want to leave home again."

"Home is very important," I said with a slow smile.

"I've been away from home for too long. I was prepared to live the rest of my life in exile," he said quietly unable to look at me.

"In that case, I'd like to welcome you home," I said as I leaned over him and began my own exploration.

"Oh God, Babe," he said.

"That's 'oh Goddess' tonight," I said as I ran my hands up and down his body.

xx

Shall we say I was well and thoroughly worshipped many times over? I don't think we got but an hour's worth of sleep between us before the sun started to come through the curtains. His head was on my tummy and I was running my fingers through his hair. Everything about the past fifteen or so hours had been astonishing to me. He finally shifted to I could do Nature's bidding.

I crept out of the bed and put on a robe. I wandered into the living room to find the little box I'd been playing with earlier in the night before. I used the facilities and brushed my teeth to vanquish the dragon known as morning breath, then I crawled back into bed with the box.

I'd tried to be quiet but anything out of the ordinary wakes Ranger up. I got back to approximately where I'd been on the bed when he finally spoke.

"Everything OK?" he asked.

"I just needed to get something from the front room I'd forgotten about last night. I'd intended to give it to you at dinner and I'm afraid it's a little worse for the wear," I said.

"Whatever it is, I'm sure it's perfect," he said as he moved himself higher on the bed.

"Just remember it's the thought that counts," I said suddenly shy of what I had in the box.

I handed it to him and watched as he opened it, a single tiger lily.

"You remembered?"

"Of course, I try to remember all the things you say are important to you," I said kissing his shoulder. "I wish I'd gotten it into water last night, I'm sorry."

He kissed the apology away and ran the flower over my arms and shoulders. "You knew it was me?"

"I'd been hoping. But you kind of exceeded everything that I would've considered normal and it undid me." I paused looking for the right words. "I was expecting Trenton and Rossini's; Newark at the furthest; not all of this. This took my balance away. I'm sorry for over-reacting last night."

"I exceeded _everything_?" he asked with a smile.

"Oh yeah. I'm not sure how you did some of that. You have some amazing talents. You might have to give me a repeat performance some time."

"You know I take requests," he said looking like he was about to become the best kind of naughty.

"In that case," I said as I kissed him under his ear, "will you let me read your palm now?"

"Babe," he sighed.

"What? Unless I get a better offer, I've got nothing but time on my hands."

He proceeded to make me several much, much better offers. Oh boy.

A/N: This is the original ending, but I love the others as well. So you have your choice.

Thank you for reading and reviewing, it has been a fun ride. Alf


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